The Best Defense
by Bobadoo
Summary: How did Castiel get out of the hospital and to the Winchesters in time? And how did he get his clothes back? That's where Chelsea O'Neal came in, a nurse that he happened to work his last bit of angel mojo on. Set during Two Minutes to Midnight.
1. John Doe

**Hullo one and all! This is a random fic that I just came up with. I was always wondering how Castiel got to the boys in time. Obviously it's something we'll never know, so I just made my own version of it. Please read and review! It would be much appreciated. My muse is starving.**

**And yes, Castiel = John Doe**

**I do not own Supernatural. **

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

**John Doe**

Chelsea stared at the newest patient, or at least tried to. There were so many instruments hooked up to him that she could hardly get a good look at his face. Disbelief was written all over hers. She had heard some pretty strange stories before, every nurse had a few up their sleeves, but this one was downright inconceivable.

"You're telling me he just…'appeared' on a boat?"

The other nurse, Tamara, nodded. "They were shrimping just off Delacroix. One minute everything's fine, the next John Doe here is in their midst."

She looked at Tamara then back down to the man lying on the bed. "You sure they weren't drunk?"

"I hope they were."

Chelsea looked at the man more intently. People did not just appear out of thin air. Unfortunately, that did seem the case for most John/Jane Does, though not quite as literally. She began to wonder who he was and if anyone was searching for him. The fact was, she might not ever find out. The doctors were giving him another 24 hours before they pulled the plug. Part of her hoped he would wake up just so he could give them hell for it.

Snapping back to reality, Chelsea looked up to see Tamara staring at her, more specifically at her left hand where she was twirling an engagement ring around her finger. Instantly stopping, she moved her hand behind her back as though nothing had happened.

Tamara gave a loud and obvious sigh. "Why are you still wearing that thing?"

Shrugging, Chelsea stepped out of the room and headed for the nurse's station. "It's not hurting anything." She quickly sat down and started to look over some charts, trying to look busy and end the conversation. Clearly it was not going to work but she thought to give it a go anyway.

"Except you," Tamara replied, sitting across from her. She did not speak again. The seed of doubt had already been planted.

Chelsea tossed the charts aside, having never read a single word on them. She looked down at the ring, hearing a small, taunting voice coming from it. That could not be good.

Everything in her life had been perfect. Her hours at the hospital were busy but stable. On the best of days she even considered becoming a doctor. She had the perfect fiancé who was a lawyer at a local firm. Well, he had been perfect until she caught him making out with some nameless woman on his work desk. Needless to say, she had promptly broken off the engagement. The last thing to take care of was the ring, but honestly she was scared. That would be the end of it. Her romance that she thought would last forever gone in a moment.

Chelsea sighed. Standing up, she decided to go on her rounds, making certain she went extra slow. The last thing she needed was time to think.

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><p>Night had fallen and the hospital had grown very quiet and still. This meant that Chelsea had about 5 hours left in her 12 hour shift. And despite what she wanted, she now had plenty of time to think.<p>

She was walking around the hallways for fourth time that hour when she passed by John Doe's room. Pausing at the door, she watched him a moment. It was a rather sad thing. He actually should have been in ICU but with the string of storms that had passed through the area as of late, they had no room, especially for a man who was good as dead.

Walking in his room, Chelsea grabbed his chart and flipped through the pages a moment, sitting down on the chair next to his bed. She looked up, finally able to get a good look at his face. He was young, though probably a little older than her, and frankly rather easy on the eyes. She and Tamara had a habit of rating their patients. He would have gotten a ten.

Standing, she noticed how different he looked. Normally patients in a coma just looked like they were sleeping. They were completely calm as though nothing could disturb them. John Doe, however, looked like he was battling something in his head. Strange, considering he was supposed to be brain dead. The man had many weird things about him.

Weirder still was a red mark she spotted just below his neck. Moving closer, Chelsea reached out for his hospital gown. A red triangle was revealed when she pulled the fabric down, carved into his skin. She gasped and nearly let go, feeling a chill creep down her spine. Somehow her grip remained and she actually moved closer as more 'carvings' were revealed. She witnessed the beginning of a large circle and some other symbol that she did not recognize. Who could have done this to him and why?

Chelsea threw a look toward John Doe's face, filled with sympathy and wonder. In that moment she did so, his eyes flew open, revealing a vibrant blue that may have fascinated her if it had not scared her so much.

Her head flew up quickly and she may have backed off further if the man had not grabbed her by the wrist. His grip was strong and painful but she tried her best to ignore it. The first step was to get him to calm down before she tried to free herself. But when she looked at him, he appeared as calm as could be. She most likely would not be for much longer if he kept staring her down the way he was.

"Okay, sir, you need to relax," she said, resting her free hand on his. "You're in the hospital. I'm here to help you. Can you please let go of my wrist?"

He made no response, not that she would have been able to hear it through the breathing tube, but an attempt certainly would have made her feel better. Instead he continued to stare at her and keep his grip on her wrist. She could not help but notice how her skin was starting to feel much warmer than it should have.

"Sir, let go of my wrist!" she shouted, sounding desperate and afraid. The burning on her skin was growing far more intense, as though his hand were made of fire. She pulled, struggled and attempted to use her other hand to take his off but nothing would budge him. All the while he simply continued to stare at her as though nothing else were going on.

Chelsea was panicking and was about to shout for help when the pain suddenly shot into her head. Heat filled her entire body and she was blinded by white light. Images burst into her conscious, streaming so fast she could hardly register them. Words were whispered from different directions, all in a language she did not know. They grew louder and louder as the pain and brightness increased until it all culminated in what felt like a blast and she collapsed onto the floor.

She would awake several minutes later feeling no different physically than she had earlier. And John Doe remained where he had before, still unconscious, brain dead as far as the doctors were concerned.

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><p><strong>Sorry the beginning was a bit slow, but I think (and hope) I made up for it at the end. 2 12 hours to the new episode! Woot! *dances***


	2. Apprehension

Wow! What an episode last night! That certainly set a fire under my muse which had me up until about 2:30 writing this update. Who can't wait for next week?

Thanks to **Ziggymia123, ladygiggs, **and **L Moonshade **for the awesome reviews! You made my muse extremely happy and it baked cookies for you! Also thanks to **missfervent **and **Silvery Rain **for the adds! You get cookies too!

I had fun writing this chapter. I like it a lot. Once I get past chapter one, that's when the quality starts pouring in. I hope you enjoy it as well! Have a nice day!

**I do not own Supernatural. If I did, Gabriel would be alive by now. :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

**Apprehension**

For the rest of her shift, Chelsea remained as far away as she could from John Doe. Every now and again, she would glance in the direction of his room, expecting to see him out of bed, staring her down again as he had earlier. She would always brush the idea off with a laugh, calling herself silly for thinking he could do such a thing but it never made her feel any better. Horror stories were not supposed to be real but right now she felt like she was living one.

She caught herself rubbing her wrist several times. The pain was long gone and there was no mark to prove that anything had actually happened but the memory of the experience was enough to drive her to it. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before and she was not exactly new to pain. After surviving a car crash in high school, Chelsea was fairly certain she had one up on everyone in that department but what she had felt in that room, it made her want to relive that crash.

When her shift finally ended, Chelsea practically ran out of the hospital. She sped out of the parking lot, leaving through the wrong exit and nearly took the wrong way home. Chelsea willed herself to hold it together, at least until she got back so she would not endanger anyone else. She did not need to make her day any worse by adding a car accident to it all.

Chelsea double and triple checked every lock she had in her apartment. She opened and slammed shut every window twice and kept her biggest steak knife with her just in case. After nearly an hour of sitting on the couch waiting for someone to burst through the door, Chelsea took a shaky breath and made herself calm down. Now she was definitely being ridiculous. The man was still lying in a hospital bed. Even if he did wake up, it was not like he would find where she lived.

Looking at herself in the mirror, the only thing that appeared to be from a horror movie was her. She looked terribly distraught and the knife in her hand did not help the look, neither did the fact that her scrubs were maroon in color. She had some blue ones. Maybe she would wear those the next day.

Heading to the kitchen, Chelsea grabbed a beer from the fridge. Seven in the morning might be an extreme hour for drinking to some people but her excuse seemed valid enough.

A couple bottles later, Chelsea headed to bed in higher spirits. She blamed the incident from earlier on all the stress she had been put through over the last few days. A nice vacation would probably straighten that out so she decided to put in for the days off when she got to work. She had not taken a vacation in quite some time since she had been waiting until there was a date for the honeymoon. Well, fiancé or not, she was going to get her time in some tropical paradise.

She sank into bed twisting the ring again. Before she left on vacation, she would take it off. Probably before then. Definitely before then…just not now.

Her dreams brought back the horrors of earlier. More images flashed in her mind but this time they stayed longer. She could actually pick out what was going on in them though she hardly understood any of it. The images were of many different things but over and over again she would catch a glimpse of the same two men. They were constantly fighting things, things that belonged in those horror movies she thought of.

As the dream progressed, the images became more terrifying. They increased in speed and began to throw her into chaos. The voices returned, speaking in that same language as before. There were many, men and women. Some were calm and others were frantic. They all seemed to be speaking to her but she could not understand.

Suddenly it all stopped. Chelsea found herself standing in a room of white. When she turned around, she found herself face to face with a man. He was not John Doe from the hospital but a different one. His face appeared to be deteriorating, as though he were dead or something.

He smiled and though it was kind, Chelsea was frozen with fear, cold engulfing every part of her.

"You're too late," he said with a gentle voice. With that, the floor gave out beneath her and Chelsea felt herself falling into eternity.

Bolting upright, Chelsea screamed into the darkness of her room. She stayed that way for some time, slowly willing her heart to slow down. Eventually she glanced at the clock. She had been asleep for four hours, if that. This had better not be a sign of things to come.

Chelsea dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom. She ran the water in the sink until it was ice cold and then splashed it in her face, hoping to drown the memory of her dream. Holding both her hands on her face, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, debating for a moment if her black hair made the circles under her eyes stick out more or less. Certainly her hazel irises would distract from them, maybe.

As she did this, her gaze turned to her left wrist. The skin where she had been gripped was raised and red as well. Gasping, Chelsea lowered her hands and took a better look. As she turned her arm in all directions, she noticed that it was a handprint. It did not hurt to touch but at the same time it did not feel right either.

"What…what's happening?" she asked but of course there was no one to answer.

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><p>When Chelsea arrived at work again, she dodged as many people that knew her as she could. The fewer questions they asked about her gauze wrapped wrist, the better. After completely numbing her arm with ice and applying every ointment she could find, the handprint had yet to fade. In fact, it might have stuck out more because of a bad reaction. So, instead of extremely uncomfortable confrontations over a giant mark on her wrist, she decided covering it was the safer route.<p>

Fighting the butterflies in her stomach, Chelsea walked over to the nurse's station as calmly as possible. She grabbed a chart and waited for Tamara so they could start rounds together. If she was lucky, John Doe never woke up and he was now lying in the morgue. As terrible as it sounded, it was the only thing she wanted.

Tamara walked up to her with her typical cheerful attitude. She hated her for it right now.

"Hey, Chelsea, guess who woke up from his…" Her voice trailed off when she saw her. No doubt she looked like a mess still. "Are you okay?"

Chelsea did not hear the question. She was too busy thinking over the last thing Tamara had said. John Doe was awake. Did he remember what he did to her? Did he want to do something else? What did he want with her?

"He's awake?" Chelsea blurted out, sounding a lot more frightened than she should have. However, Tamara did not notice this.

"Yeah, a couple hours ago…what happened to your wrist?"

Chelsea looked down quickly and then put on the best smile she could. "Oh that, it's nothing. I, uh…broke a glass."

Tamara raised an eyebrow. "A glass, huh?"

"Yeah," she paused, realizing what her friend was getting at. "Tamara, you start suggesting that I'm cutting, I'll actually start."

The nurse shrugged. "I didn't say anything."

They began to move along, visiting each of their patients. Chelsea could not concentrate on any of them though. She was more focused on the last one. Despite her every wish, she was going to have to see him again. At least she would not be alone this time.

"So, uh…John Doe. Do we know anything about him?" Like if he was a mass murderer on the run was what she wanted to add.

"His name is Cas," Tamara replied, stopping outside his room. His door was shut and Chelsea was against the wall so she could not see him through the glass. She wanted to avoid the second confrontation as long as possible.

"Cas?" Chelsea tried to feign interest but her voice sounded unnaturally high. "Is that short for something?"

"According to him, no, but I think otherwise."

"Why do you say that?" She leaned in closer, hoping the alarms were not going off in Tamara's head.

"The man has a terrible poker face." With that, Tamara ended the conversation and opened the door. Chelsea lingered a few moments, composing herself before she dived inside as well.

Cas was staring out the window. He appeared to be lost in thought. Though he certainly was not as terrifying as he had been earlier, Chelsea could feel her heart attempting to beat its way out of her chest. She wanted to run from the room that very instant but she knew she could not. What was she to say, that he attacked her? Again, the man had been brain dead until a few hours ago.

"Hey there, Cas," Tamara said with a business as usual tone as she went to check his IV bag.

"Hello, Tamara," he replied, not turning from the window. His voice was rough and deep. It sounded like the voice of a killer to Chelsea. She gulped and wished that she could somehow fade into the wall.

"You're certainly looking better." Cas made no reply. Tamara turned around and motioned to Chelsea that he was hot. Chelsea tried to nod but found herself incapable of moving. "I brought Chelsea with me. She's going to be your nurse overnight."

This time, Cas did turn his head. His eyes met hers. They were duller now but definitely the same ones from last night. Suddenly an image flashed in her mind. She saw him standing on a dark street somewhere wearing a tan trench coat with a suit underneath, the tie loose. In his hand was a strange knifelike object, covered in blood no less. In the blink of an eye, he disappeared and a voice filled the void.

_Castiel._

Chelsea blinked and was silent a while, that was until she realized that Cas had said some form of greeting to her. She smiled and waved her hand.

"Hi…Cas."

He continued to stare at her for some time. There was no recognition in his eyes. Chelsea was not sure if she should take this as good or bad. As he looked at her, his head suddenly tilted to the right ever so slightly and his eyes narrowed. He appeared almost inquisitive.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

Chelsea looked over at her hand. Of course she had raised the left one.

"Accident at home. Don't worry, I'm not as clumsy as you think," she added for good measure. Chelsea glanced at Tamara. She was giving her one of those crazy looks. Turning back to her hand, Chelsea saw a little bit of the raised skin that had become uncovered. She quickly lowered it, staring at the ground in shame. She could feel two sets of eyes boring into her.

"Well, Cas…I think that's all for now. Call us if you need help," Tamara said after a while. Her tone screamed that they were going to have a talk once they left. Chelsea went to follow Tamara out.

"Chelsea."

Upon hearing her name spoken by his voice, she froze, all the hairs on her body rising. This was it, wasn't it? That moment when the killer gives her some kind of threat or just a creepy smile that says it's not over yet.

"Yes?" Chelsea squeaked as she turned around. She winced at the sound.

"May I…use the phone?" Cas asked, gesturing to the one by his bed.

Chelsea could have died from relief. "Yeah, yes…um…dial 7 and then whatever number you need." With a nod, she ducked out of the room and his sight.

She hoped that he would not have found her too strange but that was asking for a little much. The fact was not only did Cas notice her odd behavior, he was also concerned about it. Clearly she knew something that he did not. Perhaps something dangerous and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

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><p>Yay! Cas is awake! <strong>Upcoming chapter preview: <strong>Cas starts his investigation and someone pays him a visit.


	3. Surprises

I've been writing this story like crazy. You guys have really been fueling my muse and it thanks you over and over, as do I. :D

Thanks for the reviews from **Ziggymia123, missfervent, Silvery Rain, ladygiggs **and **BranchSuper**. Also thanks for the Favs by **Knightly85 **and **Kathie2808 **and the story alert by **huffle-bibin**. All you guys are simply amazing. *bows down*

Here's chapter three!

**I do not own Supernatural. If I did, I would also own a '67 Impala. *looks outside* Nope.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

**Surprises**

After assuring Tamara several times that she was alright and stumbling over an excuse about the burn mark on her arm, Chelsea found herself alone at the station. She had a notebook open and was retracing the same name over and over.

Castiel.

Cas could certainly be short for it. It was a strange enough name to go with a strange guy. And it would also narrow the search for the police. A knife like the one he had with that much blood on it was not exactly subtle. She began to wonder what he did. Maybe he messed with girls like her and then killed them in their sleep.

Chelsea put her pen down and sighed. What was she doing? A name in her head and she was convinced it was his. An image of him with a bloody knife and she was completely certain that he was a murderer. While that probably was not as bad, she had only seen it in her mind. It was not like there was a hard copy anywhere for her to look at. Maybe she was going crazy. That handprint on her wrist, however, served as a reminder that something had to be wrong.

"Cas…teel?" A male voice murmured above her. Startled, Chelsea quickly covered up the page and looked up at the newcomer. It was Derek, one of the hospital's security guards. He worked the same hours that she did and would often chat her up whenever he passed the station. "Is that a Twilight character or something?"

"God no," Chelsea replied, putting the notebook away. She knew Derek was about to ask more and quickly looked around for a distraction. According to the clock on the wall, it was six. She looked at the nearby chart. There was one patient that needed medication at this time.

Attempting to not completely jump out of her seat, Chelsea grabbed the chart and sent Derek on his way, asking him to stop by later when she was not so busy. Hopefully by then he would have forgotten all about the name. Speaking of names, Chelsea looked down at the chart to see who exactly it was she would be medicating: John Doe.

Crap.

Just looking at his room made her heart beat harder and her skin crawl. It was not like she could ignore the man's presence though. Again, she had no proof that he had actually done anything. To everyone else he was just a normal patient and patients needed to be treated. That was what she was supposed to do. There was no picking and choosing here.

Cas had been looking out the window again but his gaze immediately went to her as she entered. It took all the strength she had to not freeze in the doorway. A few steps in, however, it all disappeared and she froze on the spot. They stared at each other for some time. Chelsea was almost certain she could hear the medication shaking in the cup. Eventually Cas did the head tilt thing again. Despite all of the fear that consumed her, a small part of her wondered for a moment why he did that.

"You're afraid of me," he spoke, disturbing the silence. Chelsea nearly dropped the cup.

"Why…" she took a deep breath. "Why would you say that?"

"It is obvious," Cas replied matter-of-factly. The man certainly liked to sugarcoat things. She felt the fear inside slowly become replaced by anger at being called obvious, even if it was true. It gave her the motivation to actually move and prove him wrong.

"Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, Cas, but you're not scaring anyone in this hospital, including me," Chelsea said confidently, handing him the cup. She hoped the façade would last long enough to get her out of there.

When Cas reached for the cup, his fingers brushed lightly on hers. There was a moment when Chelsea felt what she could only describe as electricity before she fell into another vision. She saw Cas once more, the same as before except the knife he held was bloodless. It did not remain that way for long. Chelsea watched as he quickly dodged a similar blade and then sank his own into the chest of another man. His eyes lit up with the purest light and then he collapsed to the ground, the image of wings burned onto it.

Chelsea blinked and was back in the hospital room. Cas was staring at her intently as though he were trying to solve some problem that was written on her. His blue eyes were piercing and it made her feel uncomfortable.

"What did you see?" he asked.

Backing off slightly, Chelsea looked at him with new suspicion. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do."

Biting her tongue, she tried to look for a way out of the situation. She found the medication cup on the floor, its contents spilled under the bed. A good enough excuse as any, Chelsea stooped down to pick up the mess. As she reached for one of the pills, she noticed something unusual. There was a light circle that went all the way around the bed. The floor itself was white so it would be hardly noticeable from far away. Chelsea had reached to touch it when Cas spoke.

"It's a ring of salt."

"Who did this…did you?" Chelsea asked as she felt the fine grains of what was indeed salt between her fingers.

"You did."

There was a loud bang followed by a few choice words as Chelsea hit her head on the bottom of the bed. She appeared in his line of sight again rubbing the back of it. Chelsea shot him a quick glare before she stood up again.

"You're honestly suggesting that I did that?" she asked angrily as she pointed to the salt. She had believed some crazy things before but if this guy really thought he was going to convince her of something she could not recall doing, he had another thing coming. His behavior was putting him on the path to the psych ward.

"I know it sounds crazy," he replied, voice still the same as ever. The man was monotone.

"Yeah? You can say that again."

His eyes narrowed. "Why would I repeat myself?"

Chelsea might have laughed at that response if Cas did not look utterly confused at that moment.

"You can't be serious," she replied, crossing her arms.

"I don't joke."

While she had to admit his voice and demeanor suggested that he was not a man that joked, Chelsea was not about to put up with it. She was not about to let this guy attempt to drag her into whatever fantasy world he lived in. Medication needed or not, he would just have to live without it. She was not about to stay in the room with him any longer. If he wanted someone to talk to so desperately, she could find some professionals who would love to hear what he had to say.

"I can help you, Chelsea," Cas called after her. She tried to ignore him but it was difficult. His voice seemed to echo in her head. "The visions, the missing memory, I can explain it to you."

Chelsea was not sure why she did it but after he spoke, she turned around and faced him squarely. She gave him a hard stare, the fear completely obliterated by the anger she now felt. Grabbing the gauze around her wrist, she began to unwrap it.

"You want to explain something to me?" she said through gritted teeth. "Explain this!" Holding her wrist out toward him, with the palm print clearly visible, Chelsea waited for some kind of response.

For a while, all Cas did was stare. It seemed to be a hobby of his. Chelsea watched him and after some time, she thought she saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes. It was then she realized what he had been missing the entire time: emotion. The man was completely impassive, until that small moment when he glanced at her wrist. First his eyes dropped to the ground and then he turned away as though he could no longer face her.

"I did that."

"Yeah, you did. And it wasn't very pleasant either," Chelsea stated, feeling more confident. If she could not prosecute him for what he did, the least he would get was an earful from her. "So how about you spare me from any more favors?"

Cas paused and his shoulders sank slightly as though he had sighed. He never looked back at her. "If you insist."

"I do." With those last two words, Chelsea disappeared from the room, leaving Cas alone with his thoughts.

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><p>Night had fallen at the early hour of 7:30. Outside it looked like another storm was brewing. That was exactly what they needed, another freak hurricane or something that left hundreds of people helpless and homeless. The hospital had been lucky so far. There had not been much damage but maybe this would be the storm that did them in. It seemed that her luck was heading in that direction.<p>

Chelsea was at the station again, skimming through a magazine one of the other nurses had left behind. Of course, she hardly saw any of the images or words that were printed in it. Her mind was teeming with thoughts, all of them centering on Cas. She had not checked on him again and would refuse to the rest of the night. He would literally have to be dying in order for her to care and she was not concerned with what her coworkers thought.

She could say one good thing about her confrontation with him: she was no longer scared out of her wits. Instead she was just filled with a burning anger. It would not go away no matter how much she tried to focus on other things. She was not sure which she was more angry at, Cas or the situation. Either way, it definitely meant she was going to be taking that vacation. Maybe a transfer too. She could use a change of scenery.

Of course, even with all the anger occupying her, she could not escape the curiosity that was the handprint on her wrist. How could a man have possibly done that? He hardly seemed capable, no one seemed capable. There was more than just his name he was not letting on to, but Chelsea did not want to question him on it. She would rather have him gone as soon as possible than have her silly questions answered.

As she was trying to read an article about the latest celebrity breakup, the lamp she was using began to flicker. Chelsea tapped it several times but it only began to flicker more frequently. She looked up from the magazine and saw all the other lights doing the same. Half expecting them to go out at any moment, Chelsea stood up and grabbed a small flashlight she kept on her. She stepped into the hallway and watched them, wondering why it was taking so long. Slowly an idea that maybe this had nothing to do with a power outage crept into her thoughts.

Suddenly the flickering stopped and the lights remained on. Breathing a sigh of relief, Chelsea was about to go back to the station when she noticed the room was starting to get brighter. She looked around at the lights, their intensity increasing at a rapid rate. She had moved her arm to cover her eyes when suddenly all the lights began to shatter, sending glass flying in every direction. Chelsea ducked down and covered her head with her hands as it happened, giving a small shriek every now and then.

When it stopped, the hospital was blanketed in darkness. The emergency lights had broken as well, even her flashlight was useless. Feeling her heart skip several beats, Chelsea looked around at the damage. She expected to hear something from any of the patients but the hospital was silent. Was she dreaming again?

Chelsea turned around and nearly shrieked when she saw a dark shape a few steps behind her. When she realized it was only Derek, she moved her hand to her chest.

"Jesus, Derek, you scared me. Do you have any idea what's going on?" she asked. Derek did not reply. The frown on his face only deepened. Alarms were instantly going off in her head. Derek was a man that never frowned. He was probably the most cheerful security guard anyone would ever run across. "Derek…are you okay?"

He took a step forward. Chelsea took an equal step back. She did not like this. Something was terribly wrong.

"Derek?"

He moved fast, much faster than she could have seen. Gripping her arm tightly, he began to unbind her wrist while Chelsea struggled uselessly under his grip, screaming his name several times as though she could get through to him. When he revealed the handprint, Derek sneered.

"You are marked," he said with a deep voice that was not his, or at least it hardly sounded like his.

"Marked? What are you talking about?" Chelsea cried out, struggling harder. His grip was becoming tighter. "Let me go, Derek! Let me go!" She slapped him. It felt like hitting solid stone. Chelsea looked up at him in complete terror. This was not Derek, somehow it was not him. It was not even human.

Suddenly, Chelsea was lifted off the ground by her arm. Derek scowled. "Pathetic human."

The next thing Chelsea knew, she flew across the room and crashed into the monitoring equipment they had sitting out. She blacked out for a few moments. When she came to again, Derek had his arm wrapped around her neck and was dragging her back down the hallway. She gripped him with both her hands and made an attempt to stop him but that of course was useless. Her leg was killing her and she could feel blood trickling down her face. Something told her this would be the least of her worries.

Derek took her into the room Cas was in. Pulling Chelsea onto her feet, Derek had her face Cas. He was sitting up in bed, a look of concern evident on his face but it quickly melted into anger as he looked over at Derek.

"Micah," Cas said simply, though it sounded more like a threat than anything.

"Hello, Castiel," Derek replied with a smile. "It's been a long time."

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><p>I was so excited by this chapter that I instantly started writing the fourth one. Expect that one soon too! Good night everybody!<p> 


	4. Sigil

Hi everyone! You guys are being so kind to me! I love you soooo much! *huggles* This is a bit of a shorter update but satisfying I hope.

Thanks to **missfervent, ladygiggs, Ziggymia123 **and **BranchSuper **for the reviews! **Doc-trigger, anonymous-unkown, PrincessRachW, **and **circleofstars** for the story alerts, and **Jianali **for the favorite author though I'm not sure if you've read this story or one from another section of fanfiction but thanks anyway!

**I do not own Supernatural. If I did, Lucifer would be back just because I love Mark Pellegrino too much.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

**Sigil**

Chelsea looked between the two a moment. They knew each other? Of course they did. Everything messed up had something to do with Cas. Maybe they were in on it together but something told her otherwise. Right now he was her ally. Somehow she knew that.

"Let her go," Cas commanded, giving Derek the harshest glare she had ever seen.

Derek started chuckling. "You're in no position to be giving orders." After he spoke, Cas began to cough, blood pouring out of his mouth. "I do not obey humans."

Did not obey humans? What did that make him? Chelsea began to struggle in his grip again but only found the grip around her neck tightened. She gasped and began to claw at his arm with her hands. Her legs were kicking frantically. It was like she was drowning but no matter how hard she tried, she would never get any closer to the surface. She looked over at Cas again. He looked consumed by rage and seemed about ready to leap out at Derek.

"She has nothing to do with this," Cas said, blood still running from his mouth.

"Really now?" Derek grabbed Chelsea's left wrist. "You marked her, Castiel."

Cas suddenly looked very guilty, as though he acknowledged his role in this. Chelsea did not understand it. She got a handprint on her wrist and suddenly she was public enemy number one? Nothing was making sense. Nothing had since he showed up. She never thought she would pray for having a cheating fiancé be the worst of her problems again.

"You know what must happen to her," Derek continued. He let go of Chelsea's wrist and pulled a long, silver blade out from behind him, very similar if not exactly the same as the ones she had seen in her visions. Her eyes widened in fear as he moved it closer to her neck. She no longer struggled. Once again, she was frozen.

"You will not harm her." Cas actually got out of the hospital bed and seemed ready to fight Derek, though he looked very unsteady on his feet.

"And I suppose you're the one to defend her," Derek remarked, watching as Castiel began to cough again. He fell to his knees, arm holding on to the bed to keep him from completely hitting the floor. Chelsea watched his blood drip onto the white tiles. Her hope faded a little more with each drop.

Derek began to laugh again, stooping to the ground with Chelsea to get a good look at his face. Cas looked up at him, face as enraged as ever. He looked like some wild animal. It frightened her to see what he had become but Derek just seemed all the more entertained.

"You're no longer one of us, Castiel. You're weak and broken."

Chelsea watched his face fall. Cas looked toward the ground again. He seemed to shrink before them. She stared at him while Derek laughed more, silently urging him to get up, to try something. Slowly she saw his hand curl into a fist. While Derek was distracted, Cas reached out quickly and grabbed his arm, turning the blade against him. Derek howled in pain as it pierced his shoulder. He tossed Chelsea aside, where she bounced across the floor until she hit the door.

"I'm strong enough, Micah," Cas replied.

He made no attempt to flee as Derek ripped the blade from his shoulder, a strange light pouring from the wound instead of blood. Again he moved fast and in the blink of an eye, he had Cas pinned to the wall, hand around his neck attempting to crush the life out of him. He would succeed too if she did not think of something. But what could she do? Physical force was useless.

Without thinking, Chelsea reached up to the cut on her head and began to use the blood to draw symbols on the door behind her. She had no idea what she was doing but she was not about to stop.

"You will never interfere again, Castiel," Derek hissed as he tightened his grip. Cas slowed his struggles against the grip and his eyes began to roll into the back of his head. He was losing consciousness. Suddenly a bright light filled the room as well as the sound of Derek's scream and Cas dropped to the floor, a hand no longer around his neck. He coughed for a while. This time no blood was produced.

He looked up to a very frightened Chelsea staring at him, her hand on a bloody sigil on the door.

"Are you alright?" he asked, voice much hoarser. Cas saw her give the slightest of nods but other than that, she remained where she was. He slowly stood and walked in her direction. Chelsea simply watched him, unable to move. One moment a man was standing there and the next he was gone in a ball of light all because she had placed her hand on some bloody scribbles.

"How…how did I do that?" Chelsea asked, taking his hand as he helped her up. "Where did he go? What happened to Derek?"

"I don't have time to answer that," Cas said, stepping in front of her. He checked both ends of the hallway but the hospital had grown quiet once more, as though nothing had happened. "We need to leave."

"Leave? No, we can't leave. We need to call the cops." Chelsea walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver.

"Micah will return and no one will be able to stop him. You will not survive and neither will I."

Chelsea sighed, her hand resting just above the 7 button. She listened to the dial tone for a long time, debating silently to herself. While she had more confidence in bullets than bare hands, after what she had seen, she doubted that they would be any more effective. Cas had known him. He could not be lying but it all just seemed so impossible. She was not ready to just play along.

"Chelsea, we do not have-"

"Okay…just, give me a second," she said, dialing a number. "Hi Tamara…yes, I know. I need you to come in…just trust me, you need to come in…no, I can't explain…I've got to go."

Chelsea hung up the phone and walked past Cas into the hallway. "C'mon, you can't walk around in that outfit."

They headed to the locker room where Chelsea had been holding on to a coworker's scrubs. He was about the same size as Cas, so they should fit him. However, when she opened the locker door, she found a different article of clothing looking at her, one that was very familiar. Slowly, she pulled the tan trench coat out of the locker and turned to look at Cas. He did not look confused but he was starting to get that guilty look on his face again.

"Please tell me I didn't do this." Cas remained silent. Apparently lying was not his forte. "Oh my God…" Chelsea leaned her head against the locker a moment before pulling out the rest of his wardrobe and handing it to him. Everything was intact and bloodless as though he had never been hurt. This gave Chelsea a little more hope that she had not broken into an evidence locker.

She looked back over at Cas. He was staring at the pile of clothes in his hands rather strangely. For a guy that said they had no time, he sure did not move very fast.

"You need to change on the other side," Chelsea said, pointing to the row of lockers.

Cas tilted his head again. "Why?"

"Because I'm changing on this side."

"Oh," he replied, hanging his head slightly in embarrassment. It was so strange how one second he could be this tough, animal like person and then the next he was like a child, looking lost and confused. This all resulted in more questions but she was too afraid of the answers to ask them.

He walked over to the other side of the lockers while Chelsea pulled her own wardrobe out. She normally just traveled back and forth in her scrubs but in case there was a change of plans, she kept some clothes in her locker. Right now she had a white tank, black blouse and some jeans. She quickly threw them on and then went into the bathroom. It took several paper towels and a lot of swear words but Chelsea finally got the blood cleaned off her face and the cut on her head to stop bleeding.

Cas entered the reflection, watching Chelsea pull her hair back again. He looked just like she had seen him before except his tie was not done. Something told her he did not know how to work it.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Sighing, Chelsea grabbed her keys. "Yeah."

They ran through the hospital hallways, unable to attract any attention because every part of it was as silent as where they had come from. Chelsea did not ask why this was. She just wanted to get out as fast as possible.

Climbing into her small, red four door, Chelsea turned the keys in the ignition, immediately shutting the radio off before anything could play. She was not in the mood to hear any of it. For a minute she just sat there, unsure of what to do.

"So, where do we go? My place?" Chelsea asked, glancing over at Cas a moment.

"No, it's too dangerous. He'll know where you live."

Chelsea decided not to ask how he would know. "Then where?"

"We need to get to Dean and Sam Winchester."

"Who?"

Cas looked at her. "They are friends. They can help." She hoped they were not the kind of friends like Derek was, whatever he was.

"Okay…how do we get to them?"

He paused. "We need to get to an airport."

"An airport!" Chelsea shouted. "Getting me to leave the hospital is one thing but the state? I can't just drop everything in my life!" She was tempted to just kick him out of the car and drive off, even if she did owe him her life.

"You have to, Chelsea," Cas said, his voice going deeper. It seemed to do that whenever he insisted upon something. "This is not a game. This is not some situation you can fool around in. Your life is in grave danger and I can barely protect you. Either you come with me or you will be dead within the hour."

Chelsea felt a chill wash over her and her breath became shaky. She was afraid, terribly afraid. Follow a man that she used to not trust (and really still did not) into the unknown or be killed by something that she was fairly certain was not human. It was all so confusing and impossible. Everything she had seen, it was unbelievable. She wished it was all a dream but it could not be. This was reality, somehow.

She took a deep breath. "So, where are we going?"

Cas leaned back in his seat. He seemed to be satisfied by the fact that she agreed with him but she could still see him struggling with something.

He finally sighed. "Davenport, Iowa."

* * *

><p>Sorry if I messed up any grammar. I'm like writing at the speed of light to update before I go to work.<p> 


	5. Questions

Hello all! Wow, last night's episode…AMAZING. If you haven't seen it, I hope you check it out soon. Anywho, there comes a time for every writer where they hit a chapter they just never like no matter how they write it and I'm going to say this is that chapter.

And a thank you, cookie and huggle goes out to **Ziggymia123, BranchSuper, missfervent, ladygiggs **and **ArmedWithMyCompter** for the reviews and **lynn2008** for the story alert! You guys are awesome! On behalf of my muse, Cassie, I thank you as well. After last night, she has been on a writing binge. I'm not sure when we'll see her again.

**I do not own Supernatural. If I did, Sam would have his bangs back. I miss them. :'(**

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><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

**Questions**

The car ride had been extremely quiet. Chelsea was attempting to focus on the road instead of the millions of questions swimming in her head. Cas mostly stared out the window though on occasion she could have sworn she felt his eyes on her. It made her nervous and she would step on the gas a little harder. She was driving at a reckless rate but he said nothing about it.

When they finally reached the airport parking lot, Chelsea could no longer take it. She spilled out the first question that came to mind.

"What are you?"

Cas was silent for a while, but finally he sighed and said, "I am…was…an angel of the Lord."

Chelsea slammed on the brakes so hard that they both flew forward. She whipped her head to face him as the smell of burning rubber filled the air.

"You're a what?" Before he had the chance to reply, Chelsea began to shake her head. Unbuckling herself, Chelsea opened the car door and stepped out. Cas immediately followed.

"No! No, no…I'm not going to, no…" Chelsea mumbled as he approached her. "You've gotten me to do a lot of things, Cas, but this…you expect me to believe you were an angel? That's just…I can't…"

"I know it sounds-"

"Crazy?" Chelsea said, finishing his sentence. How many more times was she going to have to hear that from him? "That's because it is, Cas! You don't have wings or a halo, you are human! Insane, but human!"

"And was Micah…Derek human?"

Chelsea was silent. "I…I don't know what he-"

"He was possessed by an angel, Chelsea," Cas said, cutting her off. He had a stern look on his face, like a parent dealing with a stubborn child.

"Stop saying that! Just please stop!" Chelsea pushed her hands into her hair and began to pace around, looking toward the ceiling for help. It was all insane, every bit of it. Why did she even listen to him in the first place? She should have gone with her first instinct and called the police and kept him in bed where someone could deal with him and his problem. Yet somewhere inside, part of her said to trust him and every moment they were together, it grew. Why? Was she just as crazy as he was?

"Then explain it," Cas said, not finished with the conversation.

"I can't!" Chelsea shouted, throwing her hands back down. "I have no idea what is going on but…but what you're saying…it just can't be possible. All I know is that I want to go back. I want these stupid visions to stop. I want this nightmare to end!" Unable to bear all the emotion surging through her, Chelsea dropped to the ground and wrapped her arms protectively around her head. This was too far, too much. Maybe she would be better off dead.

A hand lightly rested on her shoulder. It did not feel very reassuring but almost awkward as though he was not certain if he should do it or not. Maybe he had never tried to comfort someone. That was something she could believe.

Chelsea looked up at Cas. His blue eyes reflected sympathy and that same guilt she had seen so many times before.

Then she became lost again. This time she saw an old barn with markings all along its walls. None of them made any sense to her but somehow they felt familiar. In front of her was Cas, wearing the same outfit. Lightning began to strike and in his shadow Chelsea could see wings. She looked over at the man next to her, whom she had seen before. He watched on with a stunned look on his face, much like she did. Cas seemed so much bigger than he was and powerful. The air was electrified. And then it ceased, returning Chelsea back to the airport parking lot.

The look of relief Cas wore on his face quickly turned to concern at the new way Chelsea was looking at him: fearful but also in awe.

"I saw wings," Chelsea stuttered. "Oh my God, I saw wings."

* * *

><p>They drove around the parking lot for another twenty minutes. When they had passed the first couple open spots, Cas had looked at her strangely but eventually he understood. She needed time to calm down. He could at least give her that.<p>

Eventually Chelsea pulled into an empty parking space but the car remained on and her white knuckle grip on the steering wheel did not loosen. She sat still for a long time, taking deep breaths and trying to regain her composure but it had fled and she was not sure if she would get it back.

Taking one final breath, Chelsea shut the car off and slid her hands off the wheel. She stared out the windshield a few moments longer before pulling out her phone. Cas did not ask why she did it. He simply watched.

Chelsea sighed as she got the voicemail. "It's me, Brad. My car is on level 5 of the airport parking lot. I know you have the spare key despite all the times you said you didn't. You'll find the ring in the glove compartment." With that, Chelsea proceeded to rip the diamond ring from her finger. She stared at it too for a while. Something told her she would not be back for a long time, if ever. She said she would get rid of it before her vacation. Guess this would have to do.

Reaching over Cas, Chelsea tossed the ring in the glove compartment. She then let herself out of the car. Cas did the same stopping when she showed up on his side.

"What are you doing?" he asked as Chelsea grabbed the tie.

"You can't go in there looking like a complete mess. I'd rather have as few eyes on us as possible." She continued on in silence, fixing his tie and even buttoning the top of his shirt. She supposed Cas could have done that himself but Chelsea figured if she did not keep herself occupied, she might just explode. Cas did not complain; he probably knew better. He also did not ask about the phone call. At least there was one thing she could appreciate him for.

She purposely moved slow with his tie, thinking about what was hidden beneath his shirt.

"What was that symbol I drew?" Chelsea asked quietly, sliding the tie up to his neck. He looked uncomfortable with how tight it was. Under different circumstances, she might have laughed.

"It was an angel banishing sigil." Her eyes widened slightly at the word 'angel.' Despite what she saw, she was not completely on the bandwagon yet.

"Right," Chelsea replied, stepping back. "Is that what's carved onto your chest?"

Cas looked down as though he could actually see it. "Yes."

"Is that how you got here?" He nodded. "Did it hurt?"

At this, Cas paused. He was silent as he pondered over the question. "It was…unlike anything I had ever felt."

Chelsea now nodded, finding a small bit of respect for him. He went through a lot of pain for someone, went as far as carving into his own flesh. Clearly he was loyal but to who was the question.

"Is your name really Castiel?"

"Yes." Of course it was and she had known it the entire time.

They walked in complete silence even as they entered the airport. It was not very crowded inside. Chelsea was not sure whether that made her feel better or worse. She walked over to the nearest check-in desk with Cas in tow.

"How can I help you?" the attendant asked cheerfully. Now Chelsea knew that they were supposed to act friendly but that did not stop her from feeling the urge to beat the grin off her face.

"We need two tickets for the quickest flight to…" Chelsea paused, thinking of the airport she had looked up earlier. "Quad Cities?"

The attendant typed rigorously on her keyboard. "We have a flight that arrives at 11:45 via Atlanta."

"That's the opposite direction of where we need to head," Cas murmured next to her. Chelsea held her hand up and shook her head. Now was not the time.

"Are there any direct flights?"

"No."

"Of course not," Chelsea sighed, looking back over at Cas. He appeared very upset. She did not know who would have to explain more over the course of time they would be together: him or her. "Okay, I'll take that."

More keys clicked. "Nine hundred seventy-six dollars."

"I better get reimbursed for this," Chelsea mumbled, pulling out her credit card. She could practically hear his head tilt. He was lucky she had the money saved up. That did not stop her from making it a little difficult for the attendant to pull the card from her grip.

When she got the tickets, Chelsea was relieved to find out that they were at least sitting next to each other both trips. Go figure what would happen if he got put next to anyone else. Then again, she would not have minded a break from the…angel. No, it still did not sound right.

After painfully explaining why he had to take off his coat, belt and shoes at the security checkpoint, Chelsea led Cas straight to their terminal. She kept a chair between the two of them, not really in the mood to be too close to him at the moment. She had a good hour and a half to look forward to on the plane with him. Cas was watching the latest catastrophe on the news. Chelsea liked the silence between them. It gave her time to get rid of the headache she had just realized she had, despite the fact it had been pounding away at her head for quite some time.

But Cas could not stay quiet.

"Why are we going to Atlanta?"

Chelsea slumped in her seat. "Believe it or not, it's the fastest way there."

Cas paused. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Welcome to the world of the FAA," Chelsea replied, looking over at Cas. "Please don't ask. Could you just…not say anything until we leave? I'd really, really like that."

For a moment, she thought Cas looked hurt but then he nodded and turned back to the television. Chelsea pulled her knees up and buried her head in them, trying to disappear. Maybe if she concentrated hard enough, she would be back home and not in this mess. She tugged her left sleeve a little lower on her arm. It was something she had been doing a lot though she never really noticed. If she never saw it again, it did not exist, right?

All too soon a voice announced that it was time to board. Out of the corner of her eye, Chelsea saw Cas stand up. However she did not move. She was frozen in her seat. This was it. If she left now, there would be no going back. Her life would be completely changed forever, not that it wasn't already. She was terrified. What waited for her down that path, she did not know but she was guaranteed not to like it.

"Chelsea," Cas spoke, a sense of urgency in his voice.

"I can't do it," Chelsea whimpered, looking up at him. She was on the verge of tears now, body shaking. For a long time she just sat there while everyone else boarded the plane. She looked forward again now, hugging her knees even tighter. Suddenly through her blurry sight, she saw a hand reach down toward her.

"I will not let anything harm you," Cas said as she looked up at him again. He had a stern look on his face but she was comforted by it. Looking into his eyes, she could see the truth shine within them. He would do anything in his power to keep her safe.

Letting her legs down, Chelsea took his hand. It was warm, the grip confident. She could still feel a sort of electricity pulse through it. They stared at each other for a short time, her eyes drying as they did so. His look never faded. He was determined to stay that way until she believed.

"Okay," Chelsea said, taking a deep breath. "Let's go."

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><p>Yeah, Chelsea's emotions were all over the place and well, who can blame her, but it just didn't click for me. I hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter will be better. She's gonna be a little happier and we get to see more of that innocent Castiel interacting with the human world. XD<p> 


	6. Iowa

OMG! So many reviews! You guys are the best!

Okay, so this chapter is a very fluffy one. Lots of cute moments. I figure I need at least one happyish chapter in this mostly kinda depressing story. Hope it makes you laugh. There are definitely moments that I enjoy writing. And yes, I did my research. Quad Cities is 20 min from where the Winchesters are and there are no direct flights. I have no life like that.

So, here are my rounds of thanks again! Out of cookies so my muse made brownies instead. Thanks to **Ziggymia123, ArmedWithMyComputer, anonymous-unknown, BranchSuper, missfervent, ladygiggs, fansCastiel **and **Jianali** (just got it before I posted, great timing!) for the awesome reviews! That's 8! My new favorite number! Also thanks to **Orange21 **and** Merry Masquerade **for the alerts!

**I do not own Supernatural.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

**Iowa**

Chelsea was not a betting woman but if she had the opportunity, she might have put quite a bit of money on the flight being awkward. However, she would have been wrong on who it was for.

When the plane took off, she could not help but notice the deathlike grip Cas had on the armrest and how his eyes were wider than usual. He almost seemed to sigh in relief as the plane leveled out causing Chelsea to smile. It certainly felt nice to do that.

She leaned over. "An angel scared of flying. A little ironic, don't you think?" Cas glared at her. This only made her laugh.

"You sense of humor is similar to Dean's. I'm certain you'll enjoy his company." He then turned away from her in a gesture she was fairly sure was the cold shoulder. Chelsea laughed a little more and then watched the darkening sky from her window. He may not have liked the embarrassment but it made her feel comfortable, less afraid of what waited at the end of the trip.

Everything looked so calm and peaceful from up in the air. It was amazing all the things the clouds could hide. Chelsea began to think over the day and how it had gone from one extreme to the other. She hoped Tamara had gotten to the hospital. In fact, she was quite surprised the nurse had not bombarded her phone with calls yet. Maybe there was a lot to take care of.

"Will we see him again?" she asked quietly as her thoughts strayed to what started this journey of theirs.

"Who?" Cas replied, though he very well knew the answer.

"Derek…Micah, whatever he is." Chelsea turned to Cas, more curious than afraid now. She did not know why that was. It could have been the fact that they were several thousand feet in the air or that Cas had basically sworn on his life to protect her.

"Perhaps," Cas stated, looking at her. "There is no doubt he was sent to kill me. And now that he's discovered you…"

The guilty look returned as he trailed off, filling the emotional void that had once lingered in his eyes. She supposed that if everything was okay, he displayed no emotion. Happiness must have been something much harder to understand especially with times like these.

Chelsea looked down at her wrist. The handprint was not as red but nonetheless there.

"What does it all mean?"

Cas sighed. "I think it would be best to explain that to you alone."

Looking around at the cabin filled with half conscious passengers, Chelsea nodded. Her answers would come. She just hoped they would not be as bad as she thought they would be.

The cabin suddenly shook as the plan hit turbulence. Cas instantly gripped both armrests and looked ready to have a heart attack. Chelsea could not help but burst out laughing. She quickly slapped her hands to her mouth to keep from disturbing the other passengers. Once again she saw that glare of his. He offended rather easily.

"C'mon Cas, at least I'm not freaking out." Something she was certain would not last forever.

"While I appreciate your sudden happiness, I wish it was not at the cost of my comfort."

Chelsea raised an eyebrow. "You know, they say planes are the safest modes of transportation."

"I've witnessed enough crashes to kill my confidence in that saying."

Shaking her head, Chelsea leaned back in her seat and let the paranoid angel be. He was clearly rooted in his peculiar phobia. There was no point in trying to dig him out of it. So she closed her eyes and for once saw nothing but darkness.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean 'checking me out?'" Cas asked as they walked through the Atlanta International Airport. He spoke it rather loudly so Chelsea quickly ushered him away before they had another awkward moment.<p>

"You mean you did not see the flight attendant staring at you all the time?"

"No."

Chelsea sighed. He was certainly oblivious. "She was checking you out. It's, um…when you see someone who looks good and you'd like to see more of them."

Cas nodded. "Is that why Tamara kept pointing me out to the other nurses?"

That did sound like her. Okay, maybe he was not entirely oblivious. "Uh…yeah, probably."

At first Chelsea thought she was seeing things but after blinking several times, she had to believe it was true. The corners of his mouth had risen ever so slightly. If anything, it took the usual frown he wore and made it a straight line but it was the closest thing she had seen to a smile on him.

"You enjoy it," Chelsea point out, a knowing smile on her face.

"I do not," Cas replied, eyes darting in several directions before he turned away, caught and embarrassed. Chelsea bit her lip to keep herself from laughing again.

"Uh huh…just don't let it go to your head."

They wandered about the airport for a little bit, having an hour to kill before their next flight. Chelsea suddenly realized she was quite hungry, which was odd. She would have thought her appetite had left forever. After what felt like an interrogation, Chelsea finally determined Cas could use some food too. Cas claimed angels never needed to eat but he was no longer one (an explanation she did not bother asking for) so he might as well.

They stopped at the McDonald's where Chelsea simply watched Cas stare at the menu like he was reading a quantum physics book.

"It's not Latin, you know."

"I am fluent in Latin," Cas replied, not turning away. "This is much more complicated."

This time she was not sure whether to laugh or sigh. Taking the initiative, Chelsea stepped forward and placed an order for him, keeping it simple. Two plain cheeseburgers would probably do it.

They sat together quite a distance away from any other travelers. The things they spoke of did not need to be heard by others, otherwise she might start to reconsider her acceptance of the situation.

Chelsea fiddled with her phone while occasionally eating a bite of salad. Cas seemed pretty satisfied with his food so there was no point in watching him. That sounded creepy but she could not help it if he was the most fascinating thing she had seen in a while. His reaction to everything was so out there.

"Castiel, the angel of Thursday," Chelsea read off the small screen. "So that's you?"

"Yes, it is," Cas replied, putting down the cheeseburger.

"Who belongs to Monday?" she asked, since that was the day she was born on.

"Gabriel."

Chelsea nodded. "Do you know him?"

"I did…he was killed." Cas pushed his food away. They must have been nearing an uncomfortable subject. She wondered if it had or would have anything to do with her.

"What can kill an angel?" she asked quietly, playing with the food rather than eating it now.

"We have a sword that can. It was what Derek tried to kill you with." And what she had seen Cas holding and even wielding which prompted another question out of her, though she already knew the answer.

"Have you killed other angels before?" She almost immediately regretted it and looked down in shame. "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that. I don't know why I said it."

"It's okay," Cas replied causing her to look up. "I brought you into this. You should know the truth…I have killed other angels, my brothers and sisters. If it were necessary, I would do it again." Chelsea supposed that protecting her feel under necessity. It made her feel a little nauseous.

"Thank you," she whispered.

His eyes narrowed. "For what?"

"For doing that for me."

Cas shook his head. "Do not thank me. If it weren't for me, you'd still be at the hospital, safe." He put extra emphasis on the last word and bowed his head. Chelsea watched him for a moment. Certainly he was right but clearly he regretted whatever he did to a point where he would sacrifice himself. He seemed so torn up inside over so many things. She wished she could help but how could she hope to if she understood nothing?

Chelsea reached out for his hand and gripped it in her own. Hers looked so small next to his. Cas looked up again, his eyes filled with a pain that she had never seen. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders and there was no one to come to his aid. It made her grip his hand tighter.

"I don't-"

Her phone began to vibrate, shaking the table. She had set an alarm so they would not miss the plane.

Chelsea sighed, letting his hand go. "Time to leave."

* * *

><p>The plane ride to Quad Cities was much quieter. It was not because Cas had conquered his fear of flying. No, every time the plane shook, he still reached for the armrests but Chelsea did not react. She could feel the fear creeping back into her. For a small time she had been content but now reality was coming back full force and the path before her began to darken once more.<p>

Chelsea waited until all the other passengers had left before she stood. Her knees were shaking and she was about to sit again but Cas grabbed her arm. He gave her a reassuring look. She tried to smile but it faltered and sank into a deeper frown.

Quietly they walked through the emptying airport. Their pace was slow, most likely for her sake. She kept playing with her phone, praying that someone would call her and delay the inevitable for a little longer. But her phone remained silent like it had the entire night.

Giving up, Chelsea put her phone away and looked up. If she was going to meet her doom, she might as well face it. She looked around the small airport with little interest until her eyes landed on a man that was staring at them, a strange smile on his face. More than a little creeped out, Chelsea was about to look away when suddenly his eyes became entirely black. It made her freeze in place. She suddenly felt very cold.

"What is it?" Cas asked, turning to her.

"There's something wrong with his eyes," Chelsea said, not breaking eye contact with the man. Cas followed her gaze and immediately saw who she was looking at. He grabbed her wrist quickly and pulled her away, running toward the exit of the airport without a thought about how others would react. Chelsea did not question him. She simply tried to keep up. They stopped running once they were outside. Cas looked in every direction for any sign of the man but there was none. They were alone again.

"What was that?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.

Cas did not stop searching for the man. "It was a demon."

"A…demon?"

"Yes," Cas replied. "They'll know we're coming. We need to get out of here."

There were more questions popping up in her head but Chelsea pushed them all aside. Now was not the time to deal with it. If Cas was worried, she should be too. She spotted a taxi down the street and led him to it.

"Where to?" the driver asked after they had shut the door. Chelsea looked to Cas, hoping he knew exactly where they were going.

"Serenity Valley Convalescent Home," Cas said, looking out the window. Chelsea gave him a curious look. That seemed like a random place to find the people they needed.

"You know, I'm pretty sure it's a little late for visitors."

Chelsea glared him. "We didn't ask for your opinion."

The cabbie raised his hands in defeat. "Alright. No need to be hostile." He was staring at her through the rearview mirror. As Chelsea watched him, she saw his eyes turn black like the other man's. Chelsea screamed and threw herself back against the seat. Cas looked at the mirror as Chelsea attempted to open the door but no matter how hard she tried, it would not budge. Eventually she felt Cas put a hand on her shoulder. Chelsea stopped pulling on the handle.

"What do you want with us?" Cas asked.

"Well, personally I'd enjoy ripping the flesh from your bones." Chelsea paled. She felt the grip on her shoulder tighten as she began to shake uncontrollably. "But, those aren't my orders. As much as I hate it, tonight I'm your chauffer. The big boss wants you intact…for now."

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><p>Uh oh…Next chapter we finally get to see the Winchester boys! Yay!<p> 


	7. The Winchesters

Looky, looky, the wifi works! Yay! We finally get to meet the Winchesters! And to those of you who did not see the author's note (which I'm going to delete anyway), I am going to be at Camp Ripley for a couple weeks for national guard annual training. Right now I'm in a hotel room which is why it works. Ripley tends to hate my computer so you might not hear from me again unless I type up another chapter tonight. I do actually have that one planned so you never know.

My muse quit baking so how about a hug and an IOU? Thanks to **Ziggymia123, ArmedWithMyComputer **(twice!), **anonymous-unknown, missfervent, ladygiggs, LastBishop, **and** fansCastiel **for the lovely reviews! Thanks to **myfandomneedstherapy **and **onlyexception8 **for the favs and **wearingskirts** for the story alert!

Here is Chapter 7!

**I do not own Supernatural.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

**The Winchesters**

For the first few minutes, the car ride was dead silent save for the occasional whimper from Chelsea. She had pushed herself as far back into the seat as possible, situating herself between it and the door. Cas sat close to her, eyes never leaving the driver. She was waiting for something to happen, almost certain the suspense alone was going to be the end of her.

"Why would Pestilence send for us?" Cas asked, his voice commanding like before.

The cabbie, demon, whatever he was began to laugh. "Look, angel boy, when I said 'the big boss,' I meant the top dog, not one of his lackeys."

Cas straightened, his body completely tense. "Lucifer."

Chelsea blinked. Lucifer? As in the Devil? Satan? Her head began to spin. She was either amongst a group of ridiculously extremist religious people or everything she was going through just got a lot more complicated.

"What does he want with us?" Cas continued, having moved closer to Chelsea. He was almost sitting on her but she did not mind. The closer he was, the safer she felt.

"Nothing more than your safe transportation to Pestilence," the cabbie replied disdainfully. He put an emphasis on 'safe' much like Cas had earlier but with the opposite effect. It sent a chill up and down her spine.

"Why would he do that?" Cas tilted his head and his shoulders slackened. The confusion was dropping his guard.

"What is this, 20 questions?" The cabbie shouted, stepping on the brakes slightly. "Listen, when the boss gives you a direct order, you don't question it and you don't tell the guy that wants to kill him the details!"

That silenced the vehicle for some time. Cas appeared troubled but also deep in thought. Chelsea tried her best to not explode right then and there but it was difficult.

She tapped Cas on the shoulder. When he looked at her, Chelsea mouthed: 'the devil?' He nodded slowly, folding his hands together. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Chelsea managed to put herself further into the seat. Cas gave her a sympathetic look, as if he could know how crazy everything was to her.

No one spoke until they reached their destination. Chelsea supposed the building looked innocent enough but right now it was daunting, terrifying. Something terrible was going to happen here. The fact that the devil was protecting them was proof enough. Just thinking that line made her feel like she was going to hell.

And what was Pestilence? The name sounded awfully familiar but she could not place it.

The taxi pulled into the lot, brakes squealing. Chelsea pulled on the door handle immediately, which finally worked, and practically fell out of the vehicle. She scrambled to get up and was ready to run when Cas grabbed her arm. She calmed under his grasp and allowed him to help her up. Cas instantly moved her behind him, keeping a grip on her wrist, the left one no less.

The cabbie looked like he was going to laugh. "C'mon, Castiel, do you think I'd take you all this way just to kill you at Pestilence's doorstep?"

"The thought crossed my mind," Cas replied, moving them back slowly.

Frowning slightly, the cabbie shrugged. "Second floor, Room 225. Try not to screw up. Oh, and Chelsea," he paused, turning his eyes black again and smiling when she jumped. "Why don't you ask your guardian angel what he and his buddies do to people like you? I got a feeling you're scared of the wrong side."

With that, the taxi took off leaving Chelsea and Cas alone in the dark. All of the questions and demands in her head somehow cancelled each other out so instead of bursting out in some kind of tirade, Chelsea just stood there, dumbfounded. That was until Cas began to walk away toward the building.

"Where are you going?" Chelsea asked.

"To confront Pestilence and get the Winchesters."

"You're just going to leave me here? What if the demon cab driver comes back?" Chelsea tried to ignore how ridiculous that sentence sounded and focused more on how Cas seemed to be backing out of his vow of protection rather quickly.

Cas stopped and turned around. "You are safe. He cannot harm you."

"You believe what he said?"

He paused, as though reevaluating his answer. "Yes."

They were both quiet a moment as though something else needed to be said but neither knew what it was. When Cas looked ready to continue on his trek inside, Chelsea shouted, "Be careful!"

Cas said nothing at first and appeared to not be able to react until he nodded slowly. Soon after he disappeared inside and left Chelsea alone in the parking lot, frightened and unsure of what was to come.

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><p>For the first few minutes, Chelsea hid behind one of the few cars parked outside, making sure she was not in view of the door. Now and again she would look in its direction, her heart pounding like a drum in her head even though it remained as still as ever. She held a rather large stick she had found lying on the ground in her hands. It would probably be as effective as a peashooter but holding onto something gave her a little comfort, even if she did feel stupid.<p>

When Cas did not reappear, she began to get worried. No doubt he was up against something difficult and he had probably not fully recovered from his 'accident.' These Winchesters were not as impressive as they ought to be if they needed an injured man to come in after them. She thought to go inside as well but quickly tossed that idea; she would be as useless as a peashooter too.

With nothing else to do and the need to occupy herself, Chelsea decided to look up this thing they were up against: Pestilence. Skipping through the sites that seemed realistic (because God knew she had left that realm ages ago), Chelsea eventually stumbled up a page that reminded her of a cult of some sort. It spoke of Pestilence and his three brothers: War, Famine and Death.

"The Four Horseman of the-"

"Apocalypse," a voice spoke, finishing her sentence. Chelsea jumped, dropping her phone and stick on the ground. She backed into the car, which of course she could not disappear into. Before her stood an older man with an oddly happy look on his face, though he held a bloody hand which from what she could tell was missing two fingers. She wondered how he could have just snuck up on her like that. Sure, she was a little distracted but footsteps in the dead silence were not something one misses.

"Tell me, did you honestly that stick would help you in this situation?"

Chelsea looked down quickly but did not say anything.

"Ah, my apologies, let me introduce myself. I am Pestilence." He held out his bloody hand. Chelsea cringed. "And you must be Chelsea O'Neal, a nurse no less. How coincidental. It's too bad we had to meet like this, I had some great plans for you and that angel, too bad he had to ruin them."

Cas was alive. This was good. However, now she was stuck with the guy he was fighting but after what he said, she had a feeling that he could not do anything to her. It was an intuition and she prayed that it was correct.

"Well, I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short. I have some things to tend to," Pestilence said, gesturing to his hand. "By the way, tell Lucifer that I know what he did and that I hold grudges for a _very _long time."

Suddenly he was gone, vanished into thin air much like Derek had except without the light. Chelsea stared at the spot for some time before sliding down the car and sitting on the ground. She was fairly certain her heart had stopped beating at some point but her body was too afraid to notice and react. Anymore of this and she would start to prefer death.

Grabbing her phone, Chelsea stood up again and looked around. The area was as vacant as before. With a last glance at the stick on the ground, she ran inside the convalescent home and immediately headed for the second floor. She tried not to freak out when she saw the dead bodies lying on the ground and side stepped them before picking up her pace. When she passed Room 223, she slowed down to a walk. She was about to turn in the next door when someone stepped out of the room at the same time. Both of them jumped backwards, though Chelsea ended up falling on the ground. The man she had nearly hit, the one she had seen in the barn with Cas, pulled out a gun quickly and centered it on her chest.

"Dean, don't!" Cas shouted, grabbing his arm and lowering it. "She's with me."

The man, Dean Winchester she assumed, looked back and forth between them a moment. He was around the same age as Cas but he was taller and probably just as good looking but Chelsea could hardly tell at the moment. She was still recovering from her umpteenth heart attack that night. Anything and everything under the sun was happening to her.

Dean sighed. "Cas, you picked a hell of a time to get a girlfriend."

Cas did not looked amused. Neither did she for that matter. With his help, Chelsea stood up and faced the man properly. Behind him she could see an even taller man with much longer hair. His brow was furrowed in confusion but other than that he did nothing. By process of elimination, she figured he was Sam.

"Hi," Chelsea said quietly, her voice not completely back yet.

"Hi," Dean replied, smiling nicely. He held out a hand which she eventually took. Several images filled her head.

"You were Michael's vessel but now your brother Adam is," Chelsea spoke even though she had no idea what any of it meant. She did not even know why she said it.

Dean blinked a few times, stunned. "How do you know that? Cas, how does she know that?"

Cas sighed. "It's complicated."

"Well, I figured that much."

Sam awkwardly stepped forward and offered his hand, though he seemed about ready to pull it back. She wondered why as she took it. Then she knew why. She blinked several times, opening and closing her mouth a few more before she said, "Lucifer?…I'm sorry."

He nodded. "Me too."

"Okay, this is too freaky," Dean said, pointing to Cas. "Explain it."

"I was hoping to do that at Bobby's," Cas admitted. "It is far too dangerous here."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

So without any explanation, Chelsea found herself being herded outside to a car parked on the side of the building. She did not know what to think of the boys but if Cas trusted them, she would have to go along with it. They seemed nice enough from the things she had seen. Hopefully at some point she would actually get the explanation. It seemed that he was avoiding it. After all those guilty looks he had gotten, she supposed she could not blame him but it only increased her curiosity, especially after what the demon had said.

Chelsea stopped in front of the car and almost smiled. "A Chevy Impala…is it a 67?"

"You get that from touching me too?" Dean asked, arms crossed.

"No, actually. My ex…" she trailed off a moment and decided not to add the fiancé part. "He was really into classic cars. Got me hooked too." While it was random, Chelsea had to admit that she really liked talking about this. It felt normal. No demons, angels or anything else unnatural mentioned.

Dean nodded, impressed. "Cas, you know how to pick them. Good job." He patted Cas on the back and then proceeded to climb into the Impala. Cas watched him, completely lost. Sam just shook his head.

"Looks like you passed the initial test. Congrats," Sam said, taking shotgun.

"There was a test?" Cas asked Chelsea quietly. She pressed a finger to her lips and shook her head, taking the seat behind Dean. When Cas took the seat next to her, the car drove off. She felt very relaxed now compared to moments before. Was this how it was supposed to be? One moment she's being threatened by a demon and a Horseman of the Apocalypse and the next she is joking around with guys like it was all nothing? It was indeed all crazy and she was falling into it.

"Is it really the Apocalypse?" Chelsea asked suddenly. The occupants became very quiet and still. Guess she had her answer.

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><p>There you go! I hope you liked it! Sorry it's such a small glance at the Winchesters. I promise we'll see plenty more of them. As well as Bobby and the big boss himself: Lucifer! Dun dun dun<p>

Later!


	8. Mechanism

Hello all! Okay, I have to say, probably not the best chapter because I'm just desperately trying to finish it up and post it for you guys before I go quiet for about 10 days or so. I do like the first half. Sorry if it seems so random. I promise the plot shall pick up and improve!

You know those old huts that soldiers during WW2 used to stay in when they trained? Yeah, I basically get to sleep in tin version of those with two light bulbs! Ah…what a lovely time.

Anywho, tell me what you think. I promise the boys and Bobby have more screen time coming up.

I'm sorry, I'm dead tired here but I won't forget my thanks! Thanks to **BranchSuper, Ziggymia123, missfervent, LastBishop **and **fansCastiel** for the awesome reviews!

Chapta Eight!

**I do not own Supernatural.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

**Mechanism**

After about an hour or so of explanations, Chelsea was caught up on the situation…at least she thought she was. Her mind had not sorted through all of it yet. Dean went to Hell for four months or forty years. Cas brought him back. Sam broke the last seal. Cas fell from Heaven and now they were fighting to keep the final showdown of Michael and Lucifer from happening. God, she had a headache again.

The one thing that was not talked about was her. Sure, her back story was discussed but the incident that brought her into this mad conflict was not mentioned. At this point she definitely knew Cas was avoiding the subject. She thought to protest his behavior but frankly enough had happened today. Anymore answers and she might lose them all.

All at once, the urge to sleep hit her. Adrenaline spent, Chelsea collapsed into a fitful sleep as the Impala made its way back to Sioux Falls.

At first the dream felt fine, in fact it felt so normal that Chelsea could have sworn it was real. As soon as she blacked out, she woke up in her living room. It was dimly lit by the television playing some infomercials. The remains of Chinese takeout sat on her coffee table. She was in her pajamas.

Chelsea blinked a few times and proceeded to hit herself several more. All she got out of it was a burning red spot on her skin. She still would not believe it though. While she had always thought herself insane, the thought of it all being a dream was not right. She thought to go to the hospital and check for Cas.

As soon as she shut the television off, Chelsea felt the presence of someone else. When she turned her head, there he was, sitting on the couch looking at her as though he had been there the whole time. Gasping, Chelsea did nothing else but stare back at the man, recognizing him as the one from her dream before.

"Hello, Chelsea," he said calmly.

"Who are you?"

"I think you can figure that out for yourself."

Chelsea paused. "Lucifer." He nodded. The room instantly felt colder to the point where she could have sworn she saw her breath. It was certainly the opposite of what she thought would happen. "What do you want?"

"I only want to talk."

She did not believe him but said nothing of it. "How can you even do that? How am I here?"

Lucifer shrugged. "It's not difficult. All angels can talk to people in their dreams."

"But you're not a…"

He gave her a look as she trailed off. "Now, now Chelsea, think back to Sunday school." She sighed. He was an angel sure enough, not exactly the best example but that did not make a difference.

Chelsea stood suddenly. "What am I doing? I am not having a casual conversation with the devil!" She strode into the kitchen and turned around to face him. He had not moved. "You…you want to destroy the world!"

"Isn't that what Heaven wants too?" Lucifer asked, remaining perfectly calm.

"What?"

He stood. "I don't see the Great Host protesting the consequences of the Apocalypse. In fact, I recall them allowing the seals to be broken."

Chelsea remembered the Winchesters saying something about that but she shook her head. "Cas won't let it happen. He'd die first."

Lucifer chuckled. "Castiel is a fallen angel. He is more on my side than theirs; he just won't accept it yet." He paused. "That's part of the reason why he won't kill you."

"Cas would never kill me." Chelsea spat, angered that he would insult him like that.

"Maybe not now," he replied, stepping forward. "But back when he was more angel than human, you couldn't say the same."

Chelsea's eyes narrowed. "Why would you say that?"

Lucifer pointed to her wrist. "That mark he gave you is a death sentence. You're not the first to receive it and certainly won't be the last. Heaven has been killing unsuspecting humans for as long as you've existed."

She desperately wanted to say that he was lying but deep down it actually made sense. Why would Derek have acted that way around her? Even Cas's reactions fit with it. But it did not make sense. The angels were supposed to help them. Why did they want her dead?

"Starting to see who the real bad guys are?" Lucifer asked with a kind, sympathetic smile.

"I don't believe you," Chelsea whispered.

His smile grew. "Yes, you do."

Then the dream ended and Chelsea found herself in the back of the Impala once more.

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><p>Chelsea kept quiet about it all until they arrived in Sioux Falls, which was still another couple hours out when she woke up. The car was quiet save for some classic rock playing over the speakers. Dean was concentrating on the road though she could have sworn now and then that he was mumbling to the songs. Sam was playing with his phone, jaw tensely set. Cas was staring out the window. Chelsea did the same until they arrived at what looked like a junkyard.<p>

"Where are we?" Chelsea asked as they pulled up to a battered, old house.

"Bobby's," Sam replied, getting out of the car. After he said it, an older man in a wheel chair and trucker cap appeared in the doorway.

"Did you get it?" he asked.

"Barely," Dean replied, trudging up the stairs onto the porch. He looked ready to collapse where he stood.

Bobby looked at Chelsea. "Who the hell is she?"

Dean turned back to her. "This is Chelsea." She waved politely. "She is a nurse and…well, frankly I don't know what else but Cas insists that we keep her."

Chelsea frowned. She was a person not a stray they picked up off the side of the road.

"You got a thing for medical personnel, Cas?" Bobby asked, turning to him.

Now Cas frowned. "Your sarcasm is not amusing."

"Who said I was being sarcastic?"

"Guys, it's too early for this," Sam stated, walking into the house with Dean in tow.

"And just where do you two think you're going?"

"To bed!" Both Winchesters shouted in unison. Bobby followed them inside, muttering under his breath the whole way.

Cas sighed. "You get used to him."

"Are you sure about that?"

He faced her. "No…not really."

Chelsea smiled for a brief moment before her face fell into a deep frown. Now was a good time but she did not know if she wanted the truth anymore.

"Is there something wrong?" Cas asked, stepping closer. Of course there was. Everything was wrong.

She sighed. "Would you…would you have killed me if you were still an angel?" She saw his eyes narrow in confusion and shook her head. "Don't look at me like you don't know."

"Who told you that?"

"Please Cas just answer the question."

Cas frowned and looked down. He searched the ground for a long time, slowly turning away from her. Eventually he looked up again, facing the driveway.

"I was a soldier and I obeyed orders," Cas stated slowly, his voice low and forlorn. "Killing you would have been an order."

"Why?" Chelsea asked, her voice starting to crack.

"It is compli-"

"Tell me, Cas!"

His shoulders fell and he looked to the sky for a moment. Then he turned to the house but no one was there to save him from the situation. When Cas finally looked at her again, he almost appeared angry but Chelsea stood her ground. Finally he sighed and said, "Come with me."

Chelsea let him lead her into the auto yard. They stood amongst dozens of cars, far from the house and all alone. She waited for him to speak, knowing he would eventually without prompt.

"Angels are not impervious to vulnerability," Cas stared, only half facing her. "If injured, our enemies would flock to us. Alone we would be incapable of stopping them. That is when it happens. We choose a human and transfer knowledge into them, enough to keep us safe. That was why there was salt under my bed. It was to protect me from demons. That is also how you know the sigil. You are a defense mechanism of sorts."

"So…I know everything that you know?" Chelsea asked.

Cas nodded. "Subconsciously you do. It is only activated when it is necessary in order to keep the human from suspecting. You were not supposed to remember the transfer. Clearly something went wrong," he paused, thinking. "And, of course, there are the side effects."

"The visions."

"They are my memories," Cas added. "Whatever an angel sees while in his vessel is somehow transferred as well. We do not know if there are any other effects and that is why we…"

Chelsea felt the chill go up her spine. She knew what that answer led to. "Can't you just…take it away?" Cas shook his head.

Looking down at her wrist, Chelsea slowly thought it all through. It was not fair. Here were these powerful beings and they were using humans to their own ends. Yes, it was to save their lives but what do the people get in return? Death. Heaven was supposed to be filled with the good guys and there they were doing the same things that the bad guys did. It was like everything she had ever been taught was crashing down around her.

"They'll never stop, will they? I'll always be in danger," Chelsea spoke, not really looking for a response. "Angels are supposed to protect us, not use and throw us away like trash. How could this happen? How could you do this? Why did you do this to me?" She began to shout again and with every raise of her voice, Cas winced slightly.

"I didn't…I didn't mean to…" he paused, "I didn't know that I had done it."

"Oh so you accidentally gave me a death sentence," Chelsea replied, beginning to pace. "I have a life Cas and you just took it away from me. I didn't have a choice!"

"No one has a choice!" Cas shouted, stepping closer to her.

"You did," Chelsea said, her voice low, referring to him saving her. She knew that he knew it. Every moment a little more of her wished he had not. It was such a strange thing to hate a man or angel for but she did nonetheless. He was not the one that had to leave everything behind because he had been in the room at the wrong time. He was not the one who could look forward to a lifetime of paranoia.

They were very close and stared at each other for longer than they ever had. Each was looking for something but they did not know what. Chelsea eventually backed down and began to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Cas asked her.

"Somewhere!" she shouted. "Anywhere! Just away from you!"

She was not thinking. She could not think. Everything she had once had was gone in a flash. She had a right to not think but deep inside a part of her felt bad about it because she knew that Cas hated himself for what he did. That part would remain buried for now, however. There was no getting off scot-free in this world.

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><p>There you go! Hope it's enough for you! I'm beat…must sleep…later everyone!<p> 


	9. Message

Whoo, my longest chapter! I think…eh, oh well. Hi everyone, I'm back! What a miserable two weeks. Glad that's over, but what do I come back to? CAS GONE CRAZY! *sigh* What have they done to my poor angel now? Someone better fix this. ANYwho…

Thanks for the reviews from **ladygiggs, LastBishop, Ziggymia123, fansCastiel** and **BranchSuper**! The favorites from **Kalliope1990 **and **Wulf Duprix** and the story alert from **Riddle Master 101**! As always, you guys are awesome.

Little note here: didn't really check my spelling and grammar when I wrote this. My allergies raging war in my head and I'm completely out of it right now. I wouldn't know a spelling error if it slapped me in the face and screamed, "Look at me!" So I apologize in advance. Other than that, here is chapter nine!

**I do not own Supernatural.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

**Message**

Chelsea found herself sitting cross-legged in the bed of a rusted out truck. How long she had sat there, she was not certain but the tears she began crying had long since dried up. At first it had been over the obvious: her life was gone, everyone, it seemed, wanted her dead. It moved to the people she could never see again and eventually even went back to Brad, her no good, cheating fiancé. Even with everything that had happened, this still seemed to hurt most at times.

She knew she would forgive Cas the instant she had walked away but she felt he deserved a little more time to wait. Cas was not lying; he did not mark her on purpose. What she had seen that night was not the man she new, it was the former angel, the soldier, cold and willing to sacrifice. He had known nothing of it. It was like Tamara said: he had a terrible poker face.

Standing, Chelsea was about to head back when Lucifer appeared before her, his smile kind as always.

"Hello," he said simply. It was enough to cause Chelsea to trip over the side and fall flat on the dirt below. She swore a few times before moving to get up. A hand reached out to her but she crawled away from it.

"Get away from me!" Chelsea shouted, moving to stand up. "I don't want anything to do with you!"

"I think it's a little too late for that, Chelsea," Lucifer replied, leaning against the truck. She was not about to fall into another conversation with him so Chelsea began to walk away back toward the house. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

She kept walking.

"Remember Chelsea, you're dreaming!" he called out to her. "Either you can answer me or you can be stuck here for a very long time."

Now Chelsea halted. She gave a frustrated sigh and kicked at the dirt. Blackmailed by the Devil. She should have seen that one coming. Of course, she could not remember falling asleep.

Slowly Chelsea turned around and walked back to him. He was frowning slightly this time but not from anger or sadness but what seemed like disappointment.

"I didn't want to resort to that," he said.

"Sure you didn't," Chelsea replied, crossing her arms. She was still angry from earlier. That anger fueled her confidence. She was not about to fall for anything this time.

"I did not trick you, Chelsea," Lucifer said, a small smiling appearing on his face again.

"I didn't say-" She did not bother finishing the sentence. Of course he knew what she was thinking. She really ought to not be surprised by any of this anymore. Maybe Santa Claus was real and Elvis never actually died too.

"What do you want?" she asked bluntly, wondering if there were any ways to get herself out of the dream. They said death usually worked. She doubted she had the courage to commit suicide though, even if it was not real.

"I see Castiel is no longer lying to you," Lucifer stated, staring to walk around the open lot.

"He never lied to me. He was going to tell me everything and he did."

"Do you really think he would have told you if you had not pushed him to, Chelsea?"

She was really getting sick of all the points he had. Instead of fighting it, Chelsea decided to concede this time. "I can't blame him for not wanting to. I probably would be better off not knowing."

"Now you're the one who's lying."

Chelsea was not entirely certain about that. Ignorance was bliss after all. God knew she could go for some of that right now. But maybe he knew more about it all than her. Maybe she was lying. How could he tell while she could not?

"Why did you protect us?" Chelsea asked suddenly, not sure where the question came from.

He laughed lightly. "I was wondering when you would get to that." Lucifer moved back to the truck and sat on the bed. He motioned for her to sit and despite herself, she did. "I know what the Winchesters are planning. Steal the Horseman rings, open the cage and then Sam takes the biggest jump of his life."

"So why not stop them?" Her curiosity was getting the better of her.

"They forgot one thing," he turned to her. "I'm stronger." When Lucifer said that last word, she could feel his strength almost pulsate from his body. There was a pressure on her chest and a cold feeling enveloping her. Any remaining good feelings scattered to the wind.

"The key to their plan is Sam saying yes," Lucifer continued. "And once he does…I win."

Chelsea tried not to imagine the world if he won it all.

"Now, Chelsea, I need you to deliver a message for me."

* * *

><p>Dean and Sam stood in the kitchen watching Cas stare out the living room window. They, of course, had not been able to go to sleep yet. Instead, Bobby had tossed a bunch of books at them and told them to get to it. Dean tried to, not so sneakily, catch some shut eye while hiding behind a book. When he dropped it, Bobby kindly gave it back to him…through the back of his head.<p>

"The Devil ain't sleeping on the job and neither are we," Bobby had said before wheeling away. Easy for him to say.

They had heard the raised voices outside but said nothing about it. Clearly the two had a lot to get over. Dean was starting to feel more confident with his girlfriend theory.

Cas had come inside sometime later. He had slammed the door when he entered, causing a pile of books somewhere to fall over. He walked into the living room and proceeded to stand in front of the window. That had been nearly two hours ago.

"Should we say something?" Sam whispered, leaning toward his brother.

Dean put his beer down. "Like what? Sorry you got girl troubles, Cas. Want to exchange sob stories?"

"Well, no, not that but…I don't know, something. We can't just let him stand there all day."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Dean said, taking a swig.

"Dean."

"Alright, alright." He took a couple steps forward, opened his mouth and froze. Dean really did not know what to say. However, that was not a problem for long as Bobby came into the living room.

"Quit your moping, Cas. That girl's got you on a tighter leash than I thought."

Sam shook his head. Dean rubbed his. "Subtle, Bobby. Very subtle."

Cas turned around. His feathers looked clearly ruffled to Dean. Heh, feathers. He smiled a brief moment before turning serious again.

"I am waiting for Chelsea," Cas stated flatly. "I must protect her."

"Then why didn't you go after her?" Sam asked.

"She…needed her space." The hunters blinked a few times.

"You know Cas, that kinda defeats the purpose," Dean started. "You can't have it both ways. Either you're always with her or you let her go."

Cas sighed and went back to the window. Dean could see the conflict in his eyes. He had done something terrible, unforgivable. Every hunter had that look from time to time. If they did not, they lied about what they did.

"Is this hugging session over yet?" Bobby asked from his desk.

"Bobby," Sam sighed.

The hunter looked at them like they were crazy. "Don't you Bobby me, boy. Last time I checked, the Apocalypse was still on and we don't have the luxury of time."

Sam glanced at Dean with his 'he's got a point' look. Dean was about to say something when Cas straightened. Outsides Chelsea could be seen walking up to the front porch. She had crossed her arms tight across her body and looked a little paler than before. Cas was about to walk over to meet her, no doubt noticing the change, but she instantly entered the living room, making a beeline for Sam.

"418 21st Street, Apartment 304," Chelsea rattled off, not making eye contact.

"What?" Sam asked.

"That's where he'll be," Now she did look up, gauging his reaction. At first he still did not understand, mostly because it was coming from her but eventually she saw everything click. A look of inevitability crossed his face as well as this distant, immeasurable fear. Dean just looked angry. Bobby was perplexed.

"You mean to tell me the Devil spoke to you?"

"Yes," Chelsea replied sheepishly, rather ashamed of her encounter. She could feel Cas burn a hole into her with his stare.

"What does this address have to do with anything?"

"It's in Detroit," Sam answered for her. The room fell silent then and the air grew thick with unspoken words. Chelsea felt herself shrink while standing there. She felt like the bad guy in it all, the one who ended everything. It was another one of those 'look what happened to my life' moments.

"He knows what you're doing and he's ready for you," Chelsea whispered. Again no one said anything for a while until Sam took a deep breath.

"We still go through with it."

"Sam," his brother started, moving closer.

"No, Dean. This is the only chance we have."

Dean was not going to have any of it. "We'll find another way!"

"There is no other way! The Colt didn't work, God's not going to help. This is the only way!"

"Well, I'm not going to let it happen," Dean replied, turning away. His frustration pulsed throughout the room. Her heart went out to him. She could not stand by while her brother suggested he sacrifice himself.

"Dean, it's either me or the world."

"Then let it burn!" His shout nearly made the house shake. Sam had no response to this. He just had this sad look on his face. She could see the love he had for his brother and the struggle inside his own mind over what he had decided.

"Alright, that's enough," Bobby said sternly though his voice was not nearly as gruff as before. Even he knew not much could fix this. And though they indeed did not have much time, they clearly were in no position to do anything useful. "We'll talk about this later."

He turned to her. "Chelsea, is it?" She nodded. "There's a room upstairs for you. It's not the Luxor but it has a mattress. Everyone get some sleep. You're all crabbier than two year olds at nap time."

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><p>About twenty minutes had passed by. Chelsea found herself in the upstairs room curled up at a corner of the bed that sat against the wall. She stared at the single window watching the sunlight. She did not want to sleep; she did not want to see him again.<p>

The door swung open and Cas stepped through the threshold, looking for her. Her bed was hidden behind the door.

"You don't know how to knock?" Chelsea asked.

Cas looked at her strangely. "I had knocked for quite some time."

"Oh…" she lowered her head, embarrassed. "I didn't hear you." She drew her knees closer. It felt like the airport all over again.

They were silent for a while. Cas just stood there, signs of an internal conflict written all over his face. He wanted to say something.

"Lucifer spoke to you," he finally said.

"Yes." She curled up tighter.

"This was not the first time."

"No," she paused a moment. "He told me about what angels do to people who are marked. I didn't want to believe it but…then it was true."

Cas sighed. He looked frustrated and disappointed. A guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach made Chelsea believe it was directed toward her but a smaller, more reasonable part thought the opposite. Cas felt like he had failed. No matter how hard he tried, someone could always still get to her. All his best efforts would never be enough. Chelsea wondered how she thought these things. A woman's intuition may have its moments but this was certainly stretching the limits.

He crossed the room and blocked the window as he proceeded to stare out of it. "It is how he works," Cas said solemnly. "Lies only lead to mistrust and hatred. Speak the truth and those you want will flock to you."

Chelsea did not want to think that Lucifer wanted her, especially if the angels were out to kill her. That did not exactly put her in a good spot. She felt the cold from before and instantly shivered.

"I don't want to see him," Chelsea whispered, sounding like a child convinced that the boogeyman was in her closet. For a brief moment she wondered if he was real too.

Cas looked at her, the concern back. It made his blue eyes stand out more. "There is a way."

"A sigil," she murmured after a pause, remembering something she never knew to begin with. An image of one appeared in her mind, different from before and although it did not stay long, Chelsea felt she could draw it with her eyes closed.

Nodding, Cas began to roll up his sleeve. Chelsea watched in slight horror as he pulled out a knife and cut into his arm. Faded visions of him doing this before entered her mind. Dean had looked on then within a bright, white room as the angle calmly sliced himself open. This time, however, Cas was not so tranquil. She could see the strain on his face as he fought against the pain, biting down hard on his lip as he did so. Despite the obvious agony, Cas never made a sound.

Blood now flowing, Cas used two fingers to draw the sigil on the window. It was the same one she had seen. This time she was not surprised. After he finished, Cas stared at his arm as though waiting for the bleeding to just cease.

In nurse mode now, Chelsea ran out of the room and grabbed a rag from the bathroom. She placed it on the cut, applying as much pressure as she could and motioned for Cas to sit on the bed. She had him hold the rag while she searched for some kind of first aid kit, which was a lot easier to find than she thought it would be.

"You didn't have to do that," Chelsea said quietly as she applied alcohol to the cut. She could see his face twitch as he tried to remain stoic. Oddly she found it cute.

"I have caused you enough suffering," Cas replied, berating himself. "If I can avoid bringing you more, I will."

That was something Brad never told her, even when dumbed down to the lowest form of English. In fact, he never said a lot of things Cas did. Not the part about demons or the Apocalypse obviously but about protect and safety. She paused in her thoughts; she was comparing Cas to her fiancé. Somehow that made her smile. Cas gave her a puzzled look but she just shook her head.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she said after some time, now wrapping his arm. "I know you didn't mean to do this. What I saw wasn't you. I just…everything's so different and-"

"Do not apologize," Cas said deadpan. "You have every right to be angry with me."

"Yeah…well, it's probably best that I'm not upset with the one person who wants to save me."

"Sam and Dean will protect you, you have my word," Cas stated with great conviction. If his words did not convey the message well enough, the intense look in his eyes did.

"I'm pretty sure they have other things to worry about." She thought back to the argument. "I'm not worth the world."

His response was immediate, without any form of hesitation. "Yes you are, Chelsea."

The first thing she felt was a burning sensation in her cheeks as they flushed red. Soon after the rest of her body became wrapped in warmth, as though a blanket had been placed around her, banishing the cold of Lucifer's grasp. As much as Dean wanted to save his brother, that was how much Cas wanted to save her. It was more than anything anyone had ever done for her and as she looked at him, all she wanted to do was tell him. Instead, she looked down at his bandaged wrist, snapping her hands away faster than she should have.

"Finished," Chelsea said, voice cracking. She noticed that Cas had taken on a different mood as well. He was staring at the floor now, his face tinted a slightly different color. Perhaps he had realized the full meaning of his words.

Cas stood quickly and mumbled an apology before slipping out the door. Too embarrassed to think over his actions, Chelsea sighed in relief and collapsed back on the bed soon falling asleep once more. This time Lucifer did not appear.

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><p>Until next time everyone! *points to review button* You know you want to... :D<p> 


	10. Crash

Hi everyone! I am loving all the great feedback I got from the last chapter! You people are the most amazing awesome readers ever! Now, I considered adding another part to this chapter but that might have made it too long and honestly it probably works better as another chapter. And since I have it all thought out, it should get to you sooner. And the allergies are manageable again. Yay!

Nine reviews! *squeaks* Thanks to **ladygiggs, Ziggymia123, ArmedWithMyComputer, anonymous-unknown, BranchSuper, FansCastiel, Splishboom, PocketPam **and **LastBishop** for them! And thanks to **ScarlettGhost **for the fav and **bekkers29** for the alert! As usual, you all are the greatest!

Oh, and there's quite a bit of dialogue in here from the show. Normally I really hate doing that but I didn't really have another way around it. So, in a sense, I figure this is my shortest chapter. I hope you enjoy it still!

**I do not own Supernatural.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>

**Crash**

Lucifer may not have appeared but Chelsea almost wished he had. Her dreams were dark, filled with screams and other sounds of death. There was a fire. Though she could not see it, she could smell it, the smoke filling her lungs and choking her. And at the end of it all, she saw Derek/Micah, staring at her, a cruel smile on his face.

Chelsea bolted up in bed, drenched in sweat, breathing hard as though she had been running. She began to wonder if she would ever have a normal dream again.

Once she got her body to stop shaking, Chelsea looked around the room. It was still bright, as though she had never slept at all. According to her phone, which still had no messages, she had slept well into the next day. If only she could say it made her feel better. She felt like she had gone all that time without it.

Crawling out of bed with a headache and the greatest desire for a shower, Chelsea made her way downstairs. Apparently the others were up, causing her to deliberately walk slow. She wanted to know what they said without her.

"I don't get it," she heard Dean say. "I've got your magical handprint too. How come I'm not some psychic?"

"It took all my strength to save you from Perdition," Cas replied. "I could not simply hold back so you would not be scarred."

Chelsea came down in time to see Dean nod in consideration. They were all gathered around Bobby's desk. Sam and Dean sat in chairs while Cas leaned against a bookcase. In his hand, Dean held a green ring. Something told her it belonged to Pestilence.

"Good morning," she nearly whispered. There were a few tired nods. Maybe she was not the only one who had a rough night.

"Did you sleep well?" Bobby asked, though his voice had an uncaring tone.

"No, not really." Cas straightened and turned to her. She saw a look of utter disbelief on his face. He thought he had failed again. She wished he would not beat himself up so much over this.

"Bad dreams," she added with a small, reassuring smile before sitting on the couch. She saw the corner of his mouth rise. That would do.

Dean shifted in his seat. "Did you hear -"

"You talking about me? Yes," Chelsea said, cutting him off. "It's okay if that's what you're asking. If it happened to anyone else, I'd talk too." It was a strange thing. She never had a problem with people talking about her. At the hospital, gossip traveled faster than the speed of light so she became adjusted to it.

"Cas, you _really_ know how to pick them."

"I wish you would stop saying that," Cas replied, rubbing his temples.

"Which is exactly why I'll keep doing so." Chelsea could have sworn Dean was the only one who did not roll his eyes. Even Cas seemed to know it. It probably was not hard for him to pick up the trait after being with these two.

"Are you finished yet?" Bobby asked impatiently.

Dean tossed the ring on his desk. "Well, unless you've got some kind of good news to share, I'd rather not hear anything."

"Chicago's about to be wiped off the map, storm of the millennium: sets off a daisy chain of natural disasters. Three million people are going to die." Chelsea felt the chill again.

"I don't understand your definition of good news," Cas said. He had that confused tone of voice, the kind that usually followed an obvious statement or dumb question, but Chelsea had to agree with him. How was this good news? Certainly it was the kind of thing they were trying to stop.

"Well, Death, the Horseman, he's gonna be there and if we can stop him before he kick starts this storm and get his ring back…"

"Yeah, you make it sound so easy," Dean said, annoyed.

"How do you stop Death?" Chelsea asked, feeling more than a little out of place. She should have just stayed the quiet wall flower but her curiosity was overwhelming. Maybe she could help somehow, as farfetched as that sounded.

"You don't," Dean replied. Bobby shrugged.

"Bobby, how'd you put this all together anyways?" Sam asked. All eyes went to the man in the wheelchair. He seemed at a loss for words for a while.

"I had…you know…help."

The sound of a glass being put down caught Chelsea's attention. She looked over in the direction of the kitchen to see a man dressed in black that had not been standing there previously. She gasped in surprise and moved down the couch. From the nonchalant reactions of the others, she figured they must have known him.

"Don't be so modest. I barely helped at all. Hello boys. Pleasure, etcetera," he said, accent strong, before turning to her. "Same to Miss Popularity over here."

"Are you an angel too?" she asked softly.

The man put a hand over his heart and feigned hurt. "Now, now Chelsea, there's no need to insult me right off. Remember, first impressions are everything."

Chelsea looked around, completely confused. What else could he have been? Unless of course he had been there the entire time but knowing what little she did from being around these guys, she would have to say there was a slim chance in that.

Sam leaned over. "Crowley's a demon."

For a brief moment she saw images of people possessed by demons trapped in circles with intricate designs, one tied up and being tortured by Dean and then another burned by a simple touch by Cas. There was no evidence of them ever being good or doing anything to help the Winchesters. And Cas was an angel, the exact opposite of a demon. The fact that he was sitting in the same room with one without much ire threw her for a loop.

"A demon? But aren't they the enemy or something?"

Crowley stepped forward into the living room. "While I'd love to answer all your questions, concerns and what have you, right now the adults need to talk. Story time will have to wait, okay darling?" Chelsea was not certain why she was glaring, whether it was because he was treating her like some child or because he used the word darling but either way she was trying to burn a hole into his thick skull, though it seemed to have no effect.

He looked at Bobby. "Go ahead. Tell them. There's no shame in it."

Every eye went from Crowley to Bobby in one second.

"Bobby, tell us what?" Sam asked, his tone demanding.

"World's gonna end," Bobby said quietly. "It seems stupid to get all precious over one little soul."

"You sold your soul?" Dean asked, voice raised in disbelief. All around were looks of disappointment, including one from Cas. Chelsea knew that it could not have been anything good, obviously, though she was not fully aware of what it all entailed.

"Oh, more like porned it," Crowley said. "I fully intend to give it back."

Sam did not look back. He just kept looking at Bobby. "Did you kiss him?"

Chelsea looked from Sam to Bobby several times. She did not have any words to describe how extremely strange the situation had gotten. What did kissing have to do with anything?

"No!" Bobby shouted. The room fell silent until Crowley cleared his throat. Everyone turned to see him holding up his phone. On it was a picture of two people kissing: him and Bobby. Chelsea stared at it for quite some time, not sure what to make of it. So did the rest of the group apparently.

"Why did you have to kiss him?" Chelsea asked, still looking at the phone.

Crowley held a hand up. "Ah, remember what I said about story time, Chelsea." She glared at him again and this time was not the only one.

"Why'd you take a picture?" Bobby asked.

"Why'd you have to use tongue?"

"Okay, too much information," Chelsea mumbled to herself, frowning. She looked over at Cas who seemed to be a little confused. It made her smile again.

Dean stood up and walked toward Crowley. "Okay, you know what, I'm sick of this. Give him his soul back now."

"I'm sorry, I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"I won't, alright? It's insurance. You kill demons, Gigantor over there has a temper issue about it but you won't kill me as long as I have that soul in the deposit box. I'll return it after all this is over and I can walk safely away. Do we all understand each other?" Crowley ended with a shout. The room was silent for some time.

"By the way, has anyone glanced at the papers recently?" Crowley asked. He received several confused looks. "Apparently not. It's tragic really, what happened in New Orleans. I'm at a loss for the details but I do recall something about a fire and a hospital."

Chelsea felt her blood run cold and her heart seemed to stop. Cas looked over at her and then to Crowley, giving him a glare that might have set him on fire if he had powers.

"Crowley," he said with a very threatening tone. "Don't you dare."

He gave Cas a look. "Castiel, please, I'm trying to have a conversation here. Why don't you fly off and entertain yourself elsewhere?" he paused. "Oh, that's right…you can't. In fact, you can't do much of anything so why don't you think about that the next time you try to threaten a demon!"

Cas did not back down but he did not say anything else either. He looked back over at Chelsea. All the life appeared to have drained from her. She stared at Crowley with tears forming in her eyes.

"What happened?" she asked, voice shaking. "Tell me!"

"Afraid that's all I have on the subject. Dreadful that I can't be of more use," he said with a small grin. With that, he vanished into thin air.

Chelsea stared at the empty space for a few moments longer before looking at Cas. "Do you know anything about this?"

"I know nothing. I thought he may have been lying to upset you," Cas replied. He was speaking the truth. It did not make her feel any better though.

"He wasn't lying," Bobby said suddenly.

"What are you talking about, Bobby?" Sam asked. Chelsea looked over at the older man and saw a sympathetic look on his face.

"I read it earlier. The hospital in New Orleans caught fire…" he paused. "There were no survivors."

At first, Chelsea felt nothing. She was not even sure if she had even heard a word that Bobby said. If anything else was said, she certainly did not hear that. All she could hear was the increased pounding of her heart and then the screams from before. People dying as the flames licked their bodies. They were trapped inside. The doors would not open and the flames would not die from any amount of water. And yet there was one who walked amongst it all as though it were only light. People tried to go to him, tried to receive any kind of help but he only brushed past them or tossed them back into the carnage. This was her dream and there was no doubt in her mind it had happened at the same time that the fire started.

In her half aware state, Chelsea glanced at Cas. To say that he looked crushed was an understatement. She could literally see the guilt coursing through his veins. It seemed to cause him some kind of physical pain. His blue eyes were not as vibrant as they usually were. Instead they were quite dull and dark. He could not keep his eyes locked with her. Instead he looked down and gripped his head tightly with his hands.

"I…I…" Her voice was hardly there and barely recognizable. "I'm going to be sick." She bolted out of the room quickly and collapsed in front of the toilet in the bathroom, retching. Nothing came but she continued to do so for a long time. All those lives, all those families, Tamara. Oh God, Tamara would not have been there and now…and now…she could not even finish the thought. Everything was gone. Everything.

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><p>Yeah…I'm a meanie to the extreme. Poor Chelsea. Poor Cas.<p> 


	11. Too Close

Well, I was super inspired for the chapter. This is my Cas-centric chapter of the fanfic. Now, it may seem kinda random and long but that's because I only want one right now. It was rather fun writing from entirely his POV. I hope it sounds like him to everyone!

Thanks to **BranchSuper, Ziggymia123, Splishboom, FansCastiel, Mokibobolink (x2) **and **LastBishop **for the awesome reviews! And thanks to** gitana-bianika **and **ashchild666** for the favs and **TED1OUS** for the alert! Awesome people, awesome.

Enjoy the chapter!

**I do not own Supernatural**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong>

**Too Close**

Emotions were dangerous. They could get you killed. No, not could. Would. Death was inevitable. He was living proof of that, if it made any sense. He _had_ died because of his emotions but someone had chosen to bring him back. Was it God? Maybe but he was not in an answering mood at the moment.

Emotions had their advantages but more often than not, they only went to one end of the spectrum, usually bringing pain far worse than the physical sense. That kind of pain never lasted long in comparison. He had been punched, stabbed, kicked, blown apart and all around beaten up enough times to know that. All had been excruciating to say the least but this feeling he had right now, this knife lodged inside his ribcage, made him want to bear it all again in one dosage. Guilt was a powerful feeling, one that he missed living without.

Cas had been fine with remaining by himself and wallowing in what humans called self pity but the Winchesters were determined to see otherwise. Apparently when you know someone the longest, that nominates you to be their comforter, whether you had the skills to do so or not. He had argued, put up his best defense for a good ten minutes but in the end he was outnumbered and did not have the ability to fly away. He felt like a coward for thinking that way but it was what he wanted nonetheless. He could hardly face Chelsea without the knife stabbing deeper into him. He had caused everything that had happened to her, single handedly destroyed her life when he thought he was protecting her.

He stood outside the shut bathroom door, contemplating what to do. It so far had resulted in a culminated pile of nothing. He was useless here. In all likelihood she would not want to see him anyway. If she did, he had a feeling his confusion would be well placed.

Cas reached for the door handle and then drew his hand back. He did it a second time and a third. Eventually he lost count. The silence on the other side of the door troubled him. A paranoid side insisted that someone had gotten to her but rationality said otherwise. It seemed that no demon was after her, for reasons he did not wish to fathom. And Micah would no doubt like to show off by destroying the house or perhaps the entire block. No, she was alone and he was not about to storm into the bathroom on her. If he learned anything from the Winchesters, it was to not arrive uninvited.

So he knocked softly on the door and waited. When nothing happened, he spoke.

"It's me, Chelsea," he said, feeling quite obvious. "I, uh…I know you probably don't want to hear from me…but…"

Cas sighed. He had no idea what he was doing. What was he supposed to say? He could not tell her everything was going to be fine and things would get better because most likely they would not. But he needed to say something. She was in pain, far worse than his, and that was all he cared about. Not the deaths of all those innocent lives at the hospital because of him, not the impending destruction of humanity if they failed to stop the Apocalypse, just the physical and emotional well being of the woman on the other side of the door. It made no sense to him but he would question it later.

"I don't know what to say," Cas admitted. "What happened in New Orleans was not your fault. It is entirely mine…but I think that does not matter to you."

Cas looked to the ceiling quickly, completely unsure if what he was saying was right or wrong. "I…I would give anything to fix this…My life if need be…You don't deserve to go through this, Chelsea…I'm sorry that you have to."

There was still no response. Cas was afraid he might have said something wrong. Nonetheless he waited outside the door. He was not sure how much time had passed when he finally heard the lock click. A teary eyed Chelsea opened the door slightly. Her black hair was a mess, her hazel eyes red from crying but there was something about seeing her that made him feel better.

"Why?" she asked. It was such a simple question. It could have been for anything so he did not answer. "Is your life so unimportant that you're always willing to throw it away?"

It certainly felt like that now. "I destroyed your life and many others…losing mine for what is left does not seem to be enough."

"So what's this all about?" she inquired, sniffing. "Redemption? Is that why you're protecting me?"

"It used to be," he replied, suddenly unable to look at her.

"And now what is it?" That was the big question.

Cas sighed again. "I don't know."

He managed to look up at her again and locked eyes with her. They stared at each other a long time, looking for answers they would never find. Chelsea moved closer to him, the look on her face different, unusual. Something strange came over him. He was not entirely unfamiliar with the feeling. He had felt it the other day when she was fixing his cut, when he had told her she was worth all of humanity. That was not a lie but he had not realized that was how he felt about it. He was just as surprised as she was when he said it. It was all so confusing. Things were not making sense anymore. He hated emotions.

Eventually Chelsea looked down and moved forward out of the bathroom, passing Cas without another glance.

"Chelsea," Cas said, making her stop. She turned to him and he realized he did not want her to leave.

"I'm fine, Cas…well, freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional," she said with the slightest hint of a laugh. Cas did not understand. "Look, I don't want to take the time to explain it…just…thank you."

She left then, probably to go to her room. He knew she was not better but he did not go after her, despite something inside pushing him to do so. He would only make things worse.

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><p>Night had fallen. They were getting ready to depart. Dean would go to Chicago with Crowley to get the final ring while he, Sam and the now walking Bobby would go to Niveus Pharmaceutical to stop them from delivering the Croatoan virus. There had not been another sign of Chelsea since they last spoke, but Cas had to move on from that and focus on how they were going to stop the virus from getting to the rest of the country. He had yet to figure out how he was going to help. Without his powers, he truly was useless. He had never fired a weapon before and even after being shown multiple times how to use the small shotgun, Cas was not certain he would be able to work it at all.<p>

The others were talking in a huddle. Cas just wanted to be alone. He sat in the back of the van with the door wide open, staring at the stars above while he turned the shotgun over and over again in his hands. There were days he regretted falling, this one especially. Even the thought that he was doing the right thing could not ease his suffering. He had disobeyed, lost his family and his home. His brothers and sisters would want him dead. His Father was gone. And in the end, no one seemed to understand that.

"So what's going to happen to me?" he heard Chelsea ask in the distance. Cas looked over to see her standing by the group, looking very uncomfortable as she did so. He stepped out of the van and went to join them.

"Either way is too dangerous," Sam said. "No offense but none of us can afford to watch you the entire time."

"I want to help," Chelsea replied, her voice sounding very cold. Cas did not like the change that had come over her. The life had left her eyes. She was a shell. "I can't just sit here and watch as the world destroys itself."

"Commitment ain't enough, sweetheart," Bobby said, "You need the skill to do this job too." That was certainly a lie if they were still bringing him along. However, that was not the part that upset him. The fact that they would even consider bringing Chelsea made his blood boil. He was not about to have anything else happen to her. No more demons, no more angels and no involvement in the life these boys led. It guaranteed she would never recover.

Chelsea did not back down at his statement. Instead she walked over to the van that Cas had just been sitting in and grabbed a shotgun that was sitting on the floor. They all watched in awe as she loaded a few shells and pumped the gun. It sat in her hands like it was always meant to be there, despite the fact it looked a little big for her. It made Cas feel more useless but that did not change his stance on the situation.

"My dad was a hunter…of a lower caliber obviously," she stated. "Just tell me where to shoot."

Cas watched as Dean walked up to her and for a moment was afraid that he would actually let her go but then he stopped and placed his hand on the gun.

"These aren't pheasants or turkeys, Chelsea. These are demons possessing people. Have you ever shot at a person?" Dean paused as Chelsea shook her head, clearly starting to realize what he was getting at. "They can still feel it. Every hit, every cut, every shot and when the demon leaves their bodies, they will die. Do you really want to be a part of that?"

Chelsea shook her head slowly and handed Dean the shotgun. "Am I safe here?"

"As safe as you'll ever be," Dean said as he walked away. They began to get in their respective vehicles but Cas remained, watching Chelsea as she walked up to him.

"Don't try too hard to sacrifice yourself," she said with a fading smile. "Believe it or not, your life really does matter."

"I will come back," he said, wishing he did not have to leave in the first place. While he was thankful she would not be joining them out there, he did not feel right leaving her all alone here.

"That's good," she said, nodding. For a few moments neither of them moved and then Chelsea did something he did not expect. She stepped forward and embraced him in a hug. It was a tight one, desperate and filled with more than her fear for his life. It hit him then what he had been missing the entire time. He was far too close, cared too much for her, bordering on something else he did not quite understand. It filled him with this electricity, this lightness he had never experienced before but he knew it was far too dangerous to feel this way. He had to stop but even as he thought it, his arms lightly wrapped themselves around her.

"Just make sure it's in one piece, okay?" Chelsea looked up at him, her hazel eyes a little livelier. Any words that Cas might have said were now caught in his throat. He nodded and let her go, walking into the van without another word. Sam and Bobby never said anything but he was certain the looks they were giving him implied something.

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><p>Cas had never known what it was like to sleep. After all, angels never actually needed it but now that he was…human, he felt himself unable to keep himself up anymore. The past couple days he had managed to keep awake with all that was on his mind but his body was now at the point of collapse. Closing his eyes and letting himself drift away felt like the sweet bliss of home.<p>

He found himself back at Bobby's. Chelsea was lying on the couch, asleep at the moment. An open paper sat on the floor, the images and words all depicting the tragedy in New Orleans. He felt the knife come back.

"Well, Castiel, this is certainly a new experience."

Cas turned around quickly to see Adam Milligan standing before him. Of course, he had not been Adam for quite some time now.

"Michael," he said, instantly putting himself directly between him and Chelsea.

"I never thought I'd find myself in my brother's dream," Michael said as he walked around the living room, looking over all the things Bobby possessed. "But then, I guess that means you aren't my brother anymore," he added with a smile.

"What are you doing here?"

Michael shrugged, beginning to circle Cas like some kind of vulture. "Killing time. Waiting for Sam to say yes. It's much more annoying than Dean because in my brother's case, he doesn't have a second option." He looked down at himself, giving an approving nod to the vessel he had finally snagged. "You know, despite the difficulty you and the Winchesters caused me, I bear no ill will. Adam is much more suitable a vessel. He's pure, clean. Never killed anyone, never started the Apocalypse…"

"You allowed the Apocalypse to happen, Michael, just like you allowed Micah to destroy that hospital. You are not pure."

He began to laugh. "Your emotions are entertaining, Castiel. You never used to flinch when we wiped a city off the face of the earth and now you would question what I do?"

Cas looked down. Michael had a point. He was, as they would say, a hypocrite but then he never claimed to have a clean slate. He knew there were many things he had done that could not be forgiven but he could try to set some things right.

"Still, what Micah did was out of line. I give you my word he has received the proper punishment." Cas did not believe his brother, not for one second. He was willing to wipe out the rest of the world, what were a few hundred lives right before it all?

He watched Michael cease his pacing. The archangel directed his gaze toward the still sleeping form of Chelsea. "Is this why you fell, Castiel? For human women?" He reached a hand out to touch her black hair but Cas grabbed his wrist before he could do so and pulled him away.

"Don't you touch her," Cas said with an anger in his voice he had only heard once before, the day that Dean nearly said yes. At this, Michael began to laugh harder.

"Don't worry, I won't touch your plaything," Michael said, wrenching his arm away. "I hear our brother has plans for her."

With that, Michael was gone, leaving an angered and fearful Cas in his wake. He had to be lying, just to throw him off. What would Lucifer want with her? She was of no use to anyone at this point. She knew as much as the Winchesters did in terms of hunting knowledge if she accessed what he had given her. That was all, other than a couple of his memories. Still, Lucifer had spoken to her before and it troubled him. Was he simply, as humans would say, messing with her or was Michael right? Either way, he feared that his emotions were putting her in far more danger than she should have been in.

He walked over to where she was and kneeled, watching her sleep. It was a curious thing. If this was a dream, how come he did not wake when Michael left? And why could he see Chelsea at that very moment?

Doing as Michael had, Cas reached out to move the stray hair covering her face. She could not be real, only a dream version. He would not be able to do any of this, not as a human. But suddenly her eyes opened and she looked at him in confusion.

"Cas?"

And then he woke up in the van, nowhere near Chelsea but in his hand was a strand of black hair.

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><p>Oh snap. :D<p> 


	12. Deals

Ah, yes…took me long enough. Hello all! This was one of those really difficult to write chapters for me, however, it shows some things that are going to come into play for the next few chapters if not the entire story. Not my favorite but it'll do. :)

Here's my round of thank yous! Thanks to **Ziggymia123, ArmedWithMyComputer, Splishboom, superloudean, FansCastiel, mokibobolink, BranchSuper, Ilse M Jupnur **and **LastBishop **for all the awesome reviews! And thanks to **Sparkles of **Youthfulness for the story alert! So many people! You guys make me so happy!

Here is chapter 12.

**I do not own Supernatural.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twelve<strong>

**Deals**

For nearly half an hour, Chelsea scoured the house for any sign of Cas. She may have been dreaming but somehow she was completely convinced that he was in the house again. However there was no evidence that he had come recently save for the strange feeling she had about someone moving her hair. She shook her head. Enough crazy. She could only take so much and she was already well past her limit.

A beer sounded like a good solution to it all. Walking into the kitchen, Chelsea grabbed one from the fridge and leaned against the counter. From there she could see the newspaper she had been reading earlier. The first four pages alone were on the fire. Things like this were not supposed to happen. People did not become entirely entrapped in a building and all die, not since years ago. America was devastated and equally fascinated.

There was a specific section that spoke of one unfortunate nurse who had been called in on her day off and arrived just hours before the incident. Her name was Tamara Samuels, loving wife and mother of two.

Whiskey. She needed whiskey.

Keeping the beer, Chelsea went to sample Bobby's alcohol. It was certainly strong but honestly not strong enough. She did not want to feel anything anymore and right now she could feel everything. There were so many emotions swirling around within her that they practically canceled each other out. Depression, guilt, anger, fear, it was all there, fighting for dominance. It left this weight on her chest, slowly crushing her but never enough to kill her. It would not be that kind.

She took another shot and began to glance through some of Bobby's books, knowing full well that she would probably regret it later. The things she read were dark, far darker than anything she had heard of. Most of it she hardly understood but there was enough to get the message through. The world she lived in was a dangerous place and she was fortunate enough that her ignorance did not lead to her death. Then again, it was bliss. She could already feel the paranoia creeping up on her.

Chelsea stood up, tossing the book aside. She felt antsy. Sitting around left her with nothing to do but think about the hospital. She could not do that, not now, not with everything going on. But what was she going to do? Everyone was gone saving the world or something and she was alone in a house she did not know in a state she had never been to. Oh, and apparently everything that lived wanted her for some reason.

Pounding her head on the wall, Chelsea looked out the door. It was daylight again. She could not recall when it made that transition. The days were either becoming longer or shorter. Sometimes it felt like both. Opening the door, she walked out onto the small porch and looked at the sky. It was dark, threatening rain. How appropriate.

She let her gaze wander around until her eyes landed on someone standing in the driveway. At first she thought it may have been a customer of sorts. After all, Bobby did have a scrap yard, but as she looked harder, she realized that this person was very familiar.

Her memory kicked in suddenly. Chelsea made a move for the door but already knew it was too late. A hand slammed into her neck before she even made it halfway, crushing against the wood siding. It instantly began to choke her and though she clawed at it with all her might, nothing would release the pressure.

"Derek!" she managed to gasp as his grip got tighter. He began to push her further up the wall, causing her legs to kick wildly at the loss of the ground.

Micah made a tsking sound. "Chelsea, by now you should have figured out, Derek's not in control anymore."

"Let…him…go." Chelsea could see spots in her vision. Her head felt like it was going to explode.

"Oh, I will, once I'm finished," Micah replied with a cold smile, tightening his grip even further. It seemed impossible for her to even have a neck still.

Suddenly her eyes widened at a sight behind Micah. He noticed this change and turned around, immediately dropped Chelsea when he laid eyes on the same thing. As Chelsea coughed uncontrollably, through her blurry vision she could make out Micah lowering a sword from his sleeve.

"Lucifer," he stated in complete surprise.

"Hello, brother," the Devil replied with his usual calm tone. Micah said nothing else. He only slowly moved to the side, allowing Lucifer to climb the steps onto the porch. They stared each other down for quite some time until Chelsea noticed Micah about to make his move.

Chelsea never figured out why she said it. She had played around with several theories but none of them ever seemed to fit right. Whatever the reason may have been, when she saw Micah getting ready to attack, she shouted, "Look out!"

In the blink of an eye, Lucifer disarmed Micah and plunged his own sword into the angel's chest.

"Too slow," he said as Micah's eyes lit up brightly, the same light that had come from him when stabbed by Cas. It began to come from his mouth as well. The light was so overwhelming that Chelsea closed her eyes and covered her ears as the sounds of a blast shook the house. When she looked back up, Micah was on the ground, dead, the image of wings engraved on the porch. She stared at it in awe for some time until she remembered who that left her with.

Lucifer had his hand held out to her and like before she tried to back away from him.

"Chelsea, I just saved your life. Doesn't that at least give me the benefit of the doubt?" She thought to say no and elaborate with a few choice words but the blood covered sword in his hand made her think twice about that. Instead, she took his hand and let him help her up. His skin was warm yet cold at the same time, not painful but not comforting either.

"Why are you here?" she asked, letting go of his hand as soon as she could. "Don't say it was to save me."

Lucifer sighed. "Gratitude is not your strong suit, I see. Nonetheless, I did come for something else," he paused. "To offer my condolences."

Snorting in disgust was probably not the smartest thing to do to the Devil but Chelsea found herself doing it anyway. It was a bit frightening how well she was taking it all now, treating the Devil like some annoying coworker and quickly brushing off her near death experience.

"You want to destroy the world," she said turning away. "What difference does anyone's death make to you?"

There was no response for a long time. Chelsea almost thought he had gone but did not want to turn around to see him still standing there. She would wait until nightfall if she had to.

"It must be painful carrying all of that guilt with you," Lucifer said after a while. "Knowing all those lives were destroyed in part by you."

Chelsea felt the anger welling up within. She gritted her teeth and said, "I didn't know it was going to happen, neither did Cas. It's not my fault."

"But that's not how you feel."

And in an instant her anger and fuel for a fight disappeared into thin air as though it had never existed. Of course that was not how she felt. How could it be?

"You know that if you died that night, none of them would have. You keep telling yourself there was nothing you could do but there's always that voice insisting you should have known. In the end, though, none of it can surpass what you feel for making that simple phone call when you didn't have to. You could have saved Tamara and not left her children mother-"

"Shut up!" Chelsea screamed, unable to take it any longer. "Get out of my head!" She hit the ground and covered her ears, praying to God he would leave her alone. But perhaps He was not listening since she had helped the Devil because when she opened her eyes, he was still there.

"Get away from me," she said, much calmer and cooler.

Lucifer looked hurt. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Then what are you aiming at because I can't tell."

"I can help you." Those four words hit her like a ton of bricks. She pictured other people getting 'help' from his kind. It never turned out well for them in the long run.

"I don't want your help," she said, looking away.

"I can bring Tamara back, Chelsea." Lucifer had been looking for the right nerve and he had hit it. There was nothing more she would want than to have her friend back. She never had to see her again. Just the thought that she was alive and well instead of stuck in a burned down hospital because of her would be enough. She would die a hundred times in order for that to happen.

"And what would I have to do for that?" she asked, trying to be as nonchalant as possible but deep inside she knew that Lucifer had her and that he knew it too. "Play the fiddle or something?"

He actually looked entertained by that notion. "Nothing as complicated as that. I just need you to come with me."

Chelsea paused, thinking this sounded too easy to be anything good. "Just come with you. That's it?" He nodded. "How can I believe you?"

Lucifer sighed. "I am bound to my word, but to put you at ease, I'll show you her."

She bit her lip. Everything about this was wrong. It went against everything she had been told. It went against Cas. He was an angel after all and here she was talking to the Devil, thinking about taking him up on an offer, a highly tempting one. What would he think of her?

It did not matter. Tamara alive was all that did. It was not just because she was a mother and a wife; it was everything. Tamara had been the straight A student, never getting in trouble, never doing anything wrong. She had been the drunken college girl that barely got through, tried every drug that was given to her, got with more men than she cared to remember. Most blamed it on that car crash in high school, the one that had broken her leg, ruined her chances at soccer and taken her parents from her. Maybe they were right. Maybe she could not control herself but that was no excuse. Tamara had done everything right and she had done everything to get herself killed and yet it was her friend that was gone. Fate or not, nothing about this was right and Chelsea would do anything to correct it.

Seeing her lost in thought, Lucifer offered his hand again. She stared at it for quite some time, fairly certain she saw flames licking the ends of his fingers, beckoning her to some place she would not like. Despite this warning, she began to reach for his hand, taking a deep breath.

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><p>Dean Winchester did not know what to think. One moment it was just him and a little Horseman everyone liked to call Death, the next a woman appeared in a chair next to them, her arm held out in the air. She glanced around the room a moment, confusion evident, slowly lowering her arm. He soon realized it was Chelsea sitting before them, the same Chelsea that was supposed to be in Sioux Falls.<p>

She gasped suddenly as she saw the bodies on the floor and then looked at Dean as though he were some kind of ghost. He could not blame her. He was probably doing the same.

"A pity, isn't it?" Death spoke with his indifferent tone of voice. "I had not wanted to take their lives. It wasn't their time," he paused to look at her petrified face. "Don't worry, you won't be joining them today."

Chelsea looked back and forth between Dean and Death for some time, not saying a word though a small sound seemed to be coming from her mouth. A trapped scream perhaps. Dean tried to give her a reassuring look, one that undoubtedly did not work.

"Why is she here?" Dean asked, turning back to Death.

"Insurance."

Dean paused. "Insurance?"

"Yes, if you back out of the deal, she'll see it through." There was a long silence following this. Dean was clearly upset and did not want to say anything rash to Death.

"See…what through?" Chelsea asked, finding her voice.

"The plan," Death replied. "See to it that Sam says yes to Lucifer. I know Dean is not ready to comply."

Chelsea looked at Dean as though apologizing for what Death was telling her to do. She did not want to be seen as the enemy. Dean knew that and he would not think of her that way. Besides, if Death thought that some nurse from Louisiana was going to stop him, he clearly did not know this Winchester.

Death looked at her. "Now I need to speak with Chelsea." And then at Dean. "Alone."

In the blink of an eye, Dean found himself sitting in his Impala, alone and in possession of Death's ring.

Inside, Chelsea stared at the blank space that used to contain Dean Winchester. He was just…gone. People did not just vanish. Then again, it explained why she was here. Alone with Death, on the verge of a deal with the Devil. Oh God, she really had gone crazy.

"You…you don't expect me to be able to help, do you?"

Death smiled slightly. It actually made him creepier. "No, of course not. I brought you here for another reason." He paused. "Care to tell me about that arrangement you were planning on making with Lucifer?"

Chelsea was quiet. She did not really want to admit anything. Besides, he clearly already knew.

"I will not give you an ultimatum. What makes you humans so interesting is your concept of free will. However, I will tell you this: if you make that deal with Lucifer, the Winchesters will never win."

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><p>Yes, the ending is ridiculously random and I apologize for that. Again, it was one of THOSE chapters.<p>

And I figured Death was so BAMF that he could randomly transport people at will.


	13. Gone

Hello one and all! Here we are at chapter thirteen of my story! Wow...it's a teenager now. This can't be good. lol

Thanks to **superloudean, LastBishop, Splishboom, FansCastiel, BranchSuper **and **Ziggymia123 **for the reviews! You are keeping this story alive! Also thanks to **KansasAngel94** for the fav and **fatalist864** for the alert!

I hope you guys enjoy it! I figure there are only a couple chapters left. Will there be a sequel? *shrugs* Guess we'll have to see.

**I do not own Supernatural.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen<strong>

**Gone**

The car was silent for about an hour, maybe two. It felt like an eternity to Chelsea as she pondered over what Death had told her. It certainly brought the weight of the world, literally, crashing down on her shoulders but it also left her questioning several things. How could she, a simple, insignificant nurse that by a stroke of luck, fate or what have you, be important enough that the Winchesters would fail without her? What could she possibly do to help? All she had done so far was sit around and let herself get transported everywhere. Some hunter she was.

Chelsea stole a glance at Dean. He looked the same as he had when she walked up to the Impala. He had an intense stare that could have melted the windshield and a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. Gruffly he had asked if she was okay and barely waited for her affirmative answer before speeding out of the city. Clearly he was upset. Well, more than that. She wished she could say for certain that none of it was directed at her.

Needing a distraction, Chelsea began to stare out the window. At this point they had entered farmland so there honestly was not much to look at. There was an occasional tree, farmhouse or group of cattle but not enough to keep her as occupied as she needed to be.

She sighed. It was going to have to happen at some point.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Oh, so he was going to play that game.

"I don't know, Dean. Maybe about the deal you made with Death that I have to 'supervise.'"

The car was silent for a while. Chelsea thought he might never answer her. She understood but hoped that it would ease the tension, make the car ride back a little easier. At the very least maybe he would turn his music on but her hopes were not too high for that.

"That depends," Dean said with a pause. "Are you going to tell me about why Death really brought you to Chicago because I sure as hell know it was not to make sure I let Sam say yes."

She should have seen that one coming. It was a little more than obvious that she was there for something else.

"I was actually hoping to avoid that," Chelsea admitted, avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Dean turned off on a random street and that was the end of the conversation.

Chelsea hated this, going behind their backs the way she was. Of course, free will was still in play in the world and she by no means had been restricted from anything but it did still feel wrong. She did want to say something but not completely admit the truth. This must have been the rock and the hard place people always spoke about.

"You know what it's like to be desperate, to be willing to do anything and everything for someone."

"Yeah, yeah I do," Dean replied, his grip on the wheel loosening. She could see reflected in his eyes the memories of what he had been through for people, been through for Sam. They had never told her why Dean went to hell, but she knew. If Cas knew, somehow she did. His brother had died and he had sacrificed his soul to bring him back. If anyone could understand what she was going through, he would.

"Let's just say I finally found a way," Chelsea deadpanned. At first Dean did not react but she knew he was thinking. She saw a light click when he at last understood.

The car began to slow down then and pulled off onto the side of the road. Calmly Dean shut the engine off and then began to stare down the road. Chelsea was nervous, anticipating anything from an attack to a hug, though the latter hardly seemed like him.

"Listen, Chelsea," he started, facing her. "If you think you're doing something right, you're not. Nothing and no one is worth it. This is your soul you're messing with. There's no taking any of that back."

She felt angry at him all of a sudden, though she should not have. He was just looking out for her as, no doubt, others had done for him. It was her soul after all, that immortal part that would suffer for another. Though Lucifer had not specifically said it, part of her knew there would be something else to the deal.

Chelsea sighed. "Do you know the word: hypocrite?"

Dean said nothing. He just looked away for a moment. She had a point and he knew it. However, she was still waiting for him to make an argument to try to convince her otherwise.

"You don't know me, Dean," Chelsea continued. "I somehow know enough about you to figure that that doesn't matter but in the end, you won't give a damn. I'm just another random face that you'll soon forget."

"And what about Cas? Something tell me this won't sit well with him."

It would not and that was why she had no intention of telling him. Cowardly it may have been but it was her preferred method. He could be the only one to change her mind and she did not want that. It was honestly painful enough to think of what this would do to him.

"He doesn't have to protect me anymore," she said stoically. "It's my decision and he should understand that."

"You honestly think it's still about protecting you?" Dean asked, the look in his eyes able to pierce her soul.

No, she did not think that. In fact, she had thought quite the opposite for some time. He cared for her, more than she wished to uncover. And deep inside, she felt the same. She did not understand why. Maybe it was his innocence or his need to protect her. Maybe it was their proximity to the end of it all. But none of that mattered. It was too late to think about such things.

"It has to be," Chelsea whispered after a long while. "It can't work any other way."

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><p>It was down pouring by the time they got to Sioux Falls. Again the weather reflected her mood properly but she had hoped there would be sunshine to give her some kind of hope. False hope it may have been but hope nonetheless.<p>

When they walked up the steps of the porch, Chelsea expected to find some kind of sign of Micah. There was no body and the wings were gone as well. She thought it strange since the marks had appeared burned into the wood.

Chelsea was still looking at the spot when the door opened. Cas emerged in the threshold and immediately made his way to her. However when he reached her, he just stopped in place, not certain what to do. He stance was very awkward and he looked ready to back up but he seemed unsure about that move as well.

She smiled weakly. "Hi Cas."

This seemed to calm him. He relaxed a little, only to take a more stern stance moments later. "We need to talk."

Looking at Dean briefly, Chelsea followed Cas into the house. At first she was afraid that somehow he knew about the deal and was going to stop her. However her paranoia quickly ceased. If he had known, something told her he would have talked about it right away. He did not seem the waiting type.

She glanced at Sam and Bobby in the living room as they headed for the stairs. They had strange looks on their faces. It made her curious. What had happened when they were gone?

In her room again, Chelsea sat on her bed while Cas shut the door and just looked at it for a very long time, contemplating. She wanted to break the silence but thought it was best to wait. Finally he sighed and closed his eyes.

"Where were you?"

Chelsea came up with the best answer. "Chicago."

"Obviously," Cas said, he voice lower than usual, filled with an anger. "Why did you leave?"

Her eyes narrowed. "It's not like I left on purpose."

Cas did his now infamous head tilt as he faced her. "What do you mean?"

"Death! He…he somehow transported me there. One second I was on the porch and the next I'm in some pizzeria or something."

"Why would he do that?" Cas asked too many questions. It was starting to get annoying.

"He said something about insurance. I'm supposed to make sure Dean lets Sam say yes. It was why he gave him the ring freely."

Cas did not ask her another question now. He just seemed lost in thought. The puzzle was shattered and he was trying to put the pieces back together.

"I'm sorry I was angry," he blurted suddenly. "When we were gone, I…I saw something."

Chelsea's expression softened, concerned. "Saw what?"

"The world from your perspective," he replied, searching his memories. "You walked out onto the porch, searched the sky…and then I saw Micah." Chelsea could feel her heart pounding harder and faster. Somehow he had seen her memories, much like she had witnessed his, perhaps even saw the incident at the same time. She was frightened. How much had he seen?

"I tried to stop him but then it ended." He paused, moving around the room randomly before taking a seat next to her. "When we returned, there was no sign of you or Micah. I wanted to leave in search of you. Sam and Bobby thought otherwise. It was far too dangerous."

Chelsea nodded, relieved yet not at the same time. "Cas, there are more important things. The world's ending. Losing one of you could ruin the chances of stopping it."

Cas sighed, considering what she had said. "You asked me earlier why I was willing to throw away my life. I am tempted to ask you the same question."

Chelsea felt cornered. He certainly had a point there. She was a hypocrite as well.

"I don't want you to die because of me," she spoke quietly. "Not anyone, not again."

"No one died because of you, Chelsea," Cas said sternly, as though he were attempting to force her to believe the statement. She would not put that past him.

"Just because you say it doesn't mean I won't feel that way," Chelsea snapped back, suddenly feeling angry herself. "I know the whole emotion thing is new for you so let me help. Guilt isn't just for the guilty. It affects all parties involved. Maybe the hospital didn't get destroyed because of me but I still feel every life on my shoulders because I lived while they died. What made me so special? You touched me and now I can scribble a few doodles. That hardly seems worth all those lives!"

Cas did not say anything in return. He just waited for her to finish.

"And…and Tamara…you can't tell me she was not my fault," Chelsea continued, beginning to cry. "If I hadn't made that call…if I hadn't left…she would still be here, alive…and…and…"

Now Cas gripped her tightly on the shoulders and turned her to face him squarely. Through the tears she could see him looking at her with an intensity she had not seen before.

"Maybe I can't take away your guilt but I will still tell you it is not your fault. I will always tell you it is not your fault. There was nothing you could do."

She sniffed. "There's something I can do now."

The air felt colder and yet thicker. The expression on his face went from worry to fear in an instant. His grip on her tightened.

"What did you do?"

She did not say anything, only began to cry harder. Cas took his grip off her shoulders and cupped her head in his hands, holding her gently yet securely. He moved closer and looked deeply into her eyes, forcing her to see the blue of his. She just began to shake her head over and over and then closed her eyes. She did not want to see him. It was too painful.

"Chelsea, what did you do?" he asked again with more emphasis.

"You don't have to protect me anymore, Cas," she finally replied, pulling his arms down. She slid her hands into his and left them there, realizing how natural it felt. As she gazed at them, Cas closed his tightly around hers. For once it did not feel awkward or unsure, but confident. She looked back up into his eyes, that same intensity in them mixed with something else she did not want to see, an emotion he should not have and neither should she.

"I won't let him take you."

Chelsea said nothing, she simply nodded and then suddenly tackled him in a hug. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, releasing all of her fear onto him. He responded instantly and equally, trying to comfort her; he had gotten much better in the short time they had known each other. She wished they could have met some other way.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, digging her head into the space between his neck and shoulder. She lifted her right hand and reached out to the figure that had been standing there watching them for some time. Lucifer took it and they both vanished.

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><p>:( She went bye bye. Reviews are appreciated! Thanks for reading!<p> 


	14. Sacrifice

Woo wee! Finally got this one done! Not much to say but warning: You will probably hate me at the end of this chapter. Not going to lie, I expect to be blasted and strangely enough very much look forward to it. :D

Time for the round of thanks! Thank you to **Ziggymia123, BranchSuper, Splishboom, FansCastiel, superloudean **and **LastBishop** for your awesome reviews! They fuel the muse and she appreciates it! Also thanks to **Vakarianx3** for the fav and **Astraea's Judgement** for the fav author though I don't know if it's for this story but appreciate it anyway!

On to the chapter!

**I do not own Supernatural.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen<strong>

**Sacrifice**

It was raining as well in New Orleans, Louisiana, but the occupants of the house hardly noticed. They were gathered around the television in the living room watching a family movie. Every once in a while laughter broke out. Their backs were away from the window so they could not see the person watching them from outside.

Though rain soaked and frozen, Chelsea felt nothing as she watched the family enjoy their time. Her eyes never strayed from Tamara. She saw her play with her daughter, tickle her son into a fit of laughter, give her husband a loving glance. It was like she remembered nothing. Maybe she did not even know the hospital was gone. Perhaps she had been given that gift, one extra day before her world, too, seemed to crash down. But at least Tamara would be alive, while she was…well, where she probably should have been all along.

Chelsea wiped the tears from her face, though it hardly made any difference in the rain. This was worth it, her soul and all the pain. Somehow it was worth it. Her thoughts strayed to Cas a moment. How he must have hated her now and she deserved that but he had to understand. Her life was not his to decide and she had to fix whatever she could. Every path before her had been bleak. This at the very least had a bright spot in it.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, suddenly warmer than it had usually been. There was no need for her to turn around. She knew who it was.

Suddenly the world was spinning, wind seemed to come at her from all directions and she could have sworn she heard the sound of wings. But it happened so quickly she hardly had time to focus on it. One second she was in the rain, the next Chelsea was in an abandoned apartment. She was sitting upright on an old, upholstered chair facing out a window with curtains that barely hid anything. Something told her this was 21st street, the place where Sam would say yes.

"Enjoying the view?" Lucifer asked from somewhere behind her.

Chelsea's grip on the armrests tightened. "Why am I here?"

"I seem to recall the deal being that you come with me."

She turned to him, the marks on his face more prevalent and numerous now. "You and I both know that there is more to the deal than that."

He chuckled slightly. "And yet you came anyway," he paused, walking toward the window. "You see, the thing about deals is that the average consumer gets ten years before they have to pay it back."

Ten years? To her that seemed like an eternity. She could go back to everything, have a good life while it lasted, see Tamara…see Cas. But, it still brought up a question.

"Again, why am I here?"

"I may have made a slight alteration on the deal. You see, until this whole Sam saying yes business is done and over with, you're going to be my guest."

Chelsea tilted her head to the side, much like Cas. "Why do you need me here?"

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." With that, Lucifer walked out of the room. Chelsea did not dare follow or attempt to leave. It would not do her any good nor would it help her deal. For all she knew, he would break it off and Tamara would go back to being nothing more than another victim in a hospital fire.

Pulling her knees up, Chelsea looked around the rest of the room. The walls were falling apart; the floor was littered with trash. It was not exactly a place she pictured for a pivotal moment of the Apocalypse but then again much was opposite of what she knew. She sat there for a long time listening to the sounds of the city below her. Every now and again cars would pass by, people would engage in conversation and sirens would blare in the distance. The sounds of Detroit were almost comforting. They were normal, a far cry from what she had been dealing with the past couple days.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself in her apartment again. It was during a heat wave when the building's air conditioning busted. Her windows were wide open with no hope for a breeze and several fans were on, threatening to blow a fuse somewhere. She was leaning on the windowsill, waiting for the wind that would never come, listening to the sounds of the city much like she was doing now. She noticed after some time that no matter what the temperature, the city never changed. All the same sounds were made. The conversations were the same, the cars still drove by and the police were certainly still out, only the look of it all changed.

Chelsea opened her eyes. She had to stop. There was no going back to that simple life. The sooner she accepted it, the saner she would be, hopefully.

She stood up now and began to roam around the small apartment. There was not much to it. She was not even sure if there was running water available. Moving to the door, she looked out the small peephole. There was a man leaning against the wall on the other side, looking down the hallway for a brief moment. In an instant, though, his head snapped over and he smiled, eyes turning that familiar, horrid black. Chelsea gasped and backed away. Even if she considered leaving, there would be no way to do so.

Moving back to the window, Chelsea began to pick at the peeling paint, thoughts drifting over anything but the present. Suddenly a high pitched noise interrupted her thoughts. It grew louder and louder until she hit the ground in pain, attempting to cover her ears. The world began to turn white.

Suddenly everything stopped. When Chelsea looked back up, she was no longer in the apartment but amongst piles of long forgotten vehicles. She was back at Bobby's somehow, the dark of the night illuminated by a light in the distance and a small fire set below. She squinted at the elaborate set up before her.

"A summoning ritual," Chelsea said, realizing it was from the 'memories' that had been implanted in her mind. She tried to move toward it but found herself frozen in place. Confused, Chelsea began to look around for some kind of explanation but found that no matter how hard she tried, her head would not move either. This frightened her.

"My, my Castiel, you certainly do not disappoint." Chelsea felt herself turn and face Lucifer. "I knew you would come for her, but this soon? What has this human done to you?"

"Let her go, Lucifer." She heard Cas say. Chelsea could not see him, but it sounded as though his voice came from exactly where she stood. Then suddenly it all made sense. Earlier Cas had spoken of seeing the world from her perspective and now she was seeing it from his. It must have been another 'side effect.' She began to wonder what else could possibly happen to them.

"Now you know I can't do that," Lucifer said, crossing his arms. "She agreed to the deal after all."

"A deal filled with half truths. She knew nothing when she decided to go with you." Cas sounded ready to attack him. She prayed that he would not.

"I'll admit that when I spoke of it to her, I left out a few things but from what I've seen, Chelsea knew exactly what she was getting into."

She felt his hands curl into fists, felt his frustration and sadness at it all. If only she knew what he was thinking. He was silent for a very long time, only making her more curious.

"Take me instead." Chelsea felt her heart drop.

"No!" she shouted, suddenly finding herself back in Detroit. Chelsea stood up quickly, searching for her phone but finding that it was not on her person. She needed to talk to someone, get him to stop. He could not go through with this. He was not dying for her. She would not let him.

She was just about ready to storm out into the hallway and take on the demons when she heard the floorboards creak. Behind her stood an amused Lucifer and an ashamed looking Cas, though when his eyes landed on her, he seemed to perk up ever so slightly.

"Don't do it, Cas," she whispered. "Don't make the deal."

"How do you know?"

Chelsea walked up to him and stopped mere inches from his face. "It doesn't matter how I know. You can't do this, Cas. They need you."

Cas lowered his head. "My part has been played. The rest is up to the Winchesters. I can no longer help them."

"Yes, you can. You're an angel. You know things that they don't."

He looked back up at her, a hint of a smile on his face. "You know as much as I do, Chelsea and from what I've seen, you are better with shotguns. You are much more useful than I am."

"Cas, I am not going to let you die for me," Chelsea said, ignoring his compliments. His smile disappeared. Oh God.

She turned to Lucifer. "Take it back." He did not say anything, only continued to look amused. "I said take it back!"

He chuckled and in that moment, he really was the Devil that she had been told about: cold, calculating, the embodiment of evil. "Now, Chelsea, why would I do that? I finally got what I want. Well, not exactly what I want. Let's consider it a bonus."

"What are you talking about?"

"Castiel here has been quite the pain, always getting in the way and ruining things. You trap him, he gets out. You hurt him, people like you go and save him. Even Heaven couldn't get rid of him permanently. So I decided to give my way a try. However, that does require agreement on his part, so I needed a little bait and as fate would have it, there was a human that he would do anything for."

Chelsea said nothing for a while. Her eyes simply scanned the room as she pieced it all together. It all made sense. This was why he had taken such an interest in her. And she had walked right into this plan of his, after all the warnings, after everything everyone had said, she had willingly walked into the obvious trap.

She looked over at Cas. If he was surprised by this revelation, he did not show it. He simply stood there as though he had heard nothing and kept his gaze fixed on anything but her. Suddenly, she felt angry. She was always angry at the wrong moments.

"You were supposed to hate me, Cas," she said through clenched teeth. He looked up at her, confused. "You told me not to do it and I went ahead with it anyway! I lied to you! You were supposed to hate me, forget about me. I'm just another stupid human making a stupid decision. You were not supposed to throw your life away for me!"

Again Cas looked down but only for a brief moment, as though he were gathering his thoughts. When he locked his gaze with her again, his eyes were clear, filled with determination and acceptance. "I was angry at you, Chelsea, that I will admit, but I could never hate you. I don't want to hate you." And for one moment, she hated him for saying that.

"I'd hate to interrupt this moment, really I do, but Castiel and I have some business to take care of," Lucifer said, crossing the room to stand next to Cas.

"What business?" Chelsea asked, looking to Cas for answers. He looked away again.

"Ten years is too long a time to wait so Cas had to sweeten the deal."

It happened very fast and yet it all took place in slow motion. Chelsea saw the glint of silver, the blade that she had seen so many times. It dropped from Lucifer's sleeve and made a move toward Cas. She began to shout in attempt to warn Cas but when he looked at her, she could tell he knew it was coming and he was not going to resist it. He made no sound as the blade plunged into his lower back, but Chelsea did. She screamed with all her might, running to catch Cas before he hit the floor.

He stood on his knees for quite some time, a look of surprise on his face. Perhaps the sensation was unexpected or the feeling of death. For a moment he looked around the room like he was not quite sure of where he was. When Chelsea knelt down and grabbed his collar to hold him up, he smiled. Then his eyes rolled back and he proceeded to fall the rest of the way, dragging her down with him.

"Cas!" Chelsea cried, her voice breaking. "Cas, look at me!"

He managed to, though it seemed to be difficult for him.

"You're going to be okay, Cas, okay…I just…I'm going to fix this," she said hysterically, tears pouring down her face. She placed her left hand on his side and pressed down, not knowing the point considering he was bleeding on the other side as well.

"You can't…you'll die," he replied weakly, flinching in pain.

"In ten years!"

He shook his head. "Not long enough…I won't let you go to hell."

"Well, I'm not letting you either," Chelsea said, gaining determination in her voice. She grabbed his coat and started wadding it together to provide better pressure. She did not know whether Lucifer was there still or not but it did not matter to her. There would be no giving up. She could not live like that.

"Yes, you are," Cas replied, grabbing for her hand. She slapped him away.

"Oh, so you can have a say in whether I die or not, but I don't get any for you? That's not how this works, Cas."

"Chelsea…"

"No Cas! I am not going to stand by while you die and do nothing!" She shouted. "I care about you too much to do that!" A silence fell between them. Slowly his hand reached for hers again and, while she still worked, she did nothing to stop him. Eventually he gripped her hand. He seemed to be trying to close it around hers but was having difficulty, so she grabbed his hand tightly. There was nothing she could do except try to make him comfortable. Moving toward his head, she propped him up on her knees.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Maybe that was all he could manage.

"It's a little late for that," she replied, attempting to smile, but it seemed to only make her frown deepen. He did manage to smile until he began to cough. It did not last very long, producing a small amount of blood from his mouth. She took her free hand and went to wipe it away. And then she did something else. Leaning down, she placed a small, simple kiss on his lips. He did not react but she could have sworn his eyes were brighter before he closed them one last time.

For a while, all Chelsea could do was watch him and then she remembered that there may have been an audience. She looked over and saw Lucifer still there, though he was staring out the window, his look of amusement gone. He seemed to be deep in thought.

"Is this what you wanted?" she asked, voice cold as steel and just as piercing. "Did you want your entertainment? Did it please you to see him suffer?"

"I could have ended it whenever I wanted. You seemed to be the one determined to drag it out."

"Don't you put this on me! I didn't want any of this!"

Lucifer turned away from the window. "And yet, it's all your fault, isn't it?"

Chelsea began to breathe hard, her anger overwhelming. "Get out," she commanded. He did not move. "Get out!" She did not care if God himself was standing before her. Strangely, Lucifer obeyed, disappearing from sight.

Looking back at Cas, Chelsea placed him down, feeling the dam break, threatening an endless supply of tears. She placed her head on his motionless chest and stayed there. She was not sure how long she was there and she did not care. She could not leave him. This time there was no arguing.

And in the dead silence of the room, a voice echoed.

_If you make that deal with Lucifer, the Winchesters will never win._

It was all about Cas. It always had been.

And now, she had let the world die.

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><p>Yes, I know. I feel the hate. But remember! I fix whatever I break!<p> 


	15. The End

I've returned! I know you missed me. Sorry about killing off Cas but I said I would fix it!

And here are more thank yous! Thanks to **Ziggymia123, superloudean, The Lilac Elf of Lothlorien, LastBishop, Ilse M Jupnur, KansasAngel94, Apollo199199, BranchSuper,** and** Mokibobolink **for the reviews! My muse felt empowered! Also thanks to **rutharaya16** and **zeppx** for the story alerts! Ya'll are awesome!

**I do not own Supernatural.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen<strong>

**The End**

Chelsea did not know how long she had been lying there. It did not matter to her. Time no longer mattered. The only person she really cared for was dead and his blood was on her hands. Nothing mattered anymore, especially her own life. His hand was slowly growing colder in hers. She gripped it tighter and tighter in hopes that she would never feel the stone cold of death. A part of her kept hoping his chest would rise again, that somehow he had come back to life but that would not happen.

The sound of the door opening caught her attention. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a man entering the room. When she turned her head, she could see it was the demon from before, the one who had been driving the taxi cab. He had a cruel smile on his face, clearly entertained by what had happened earlier. Chelsea could feel the anger flaring up within her. She stood suddenly.

"Get out of here," she said, glaring at him so hard it was surprising he did not burst into flames.

His smile widened. "Those are big words for a girl that just lost her angel toy. Sure you want to be pushing my buttons, sweetheart?"

Tears were stinging the edges of her eyes again. "I don't give a damn what you do to me."

Something flickered in his eyes. "Wrong answer." With the flick of his wrist, the demon sent Chelsea flying into the wall, holding her there with an invisible force. She did not struggle against his grip, only waited to see what he would do, glaring at him still the entire time. "No noise, huh? We'll see how long that lasts."

He pulled a knife from what seemed to be nowhere and placed it on her skin. The coolness of the metal left goose bumps on her skin. For a while he just moved the flat edge along her shoulder as though debating where he should cut first. Chelsea just watched him, trying to ignore the growing fear in her gut. She would not be afraid. The blade finally stopped and turned on its side, ready to cut but just before he had the opportunity to, the door burst open, revealing a rather angry looking pair of Winchesters.

The demon opened his mouth to say something but then Sam shut his eyes. Suddenly the demon's were glowing a bright yellow but as quickly as it came, it vanished as well. His body fell as did Chelsea's but she managed to stay on her feet. She looked at him a moment longer before turning back to the Winchesters. They both seemed to be confused at the sight of her.

"Chelsea? What are you doing here?" Sam asked. "And whose blood is…" His voice trailed off as he followed Chelsea's gaze to the other motionless form in the room.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, running to the angel's side. He looked for any signs of life but of course found none. The look in his eyes when he looked back up at Chelsea sent a chill down her spine. No demon could scare her as much as he did right now. "What happened to him?"

She was silent for a very long time before she finally whispered, "He made a deal with Lucifer." She watched Dean's eyes dull as he came to the realization of how this all took place. He took one last look at his good friend before standing again. The man looked about ready to cry, managing to break her already shattered heart.

"Why would he do that?" Sam asked, apparently not clued in to the situation.

"Because she made a deal first," Dean replied for her, voice cold as ice. He stepped to where she was, still against the wall, and got close enough to see her breath. "I swear to God if the situation were different, I would kill you right now."

Chelsea's eyes narrowed. She really did not expect anything else from him. He had known Cas for a long time now, her only a few short days. Like she had said, she was just another stupid person. He did not care about her; he owed her nothing. "Why don't you just do it and make us both feel better?"

For one brief moment, she saw his anger relinquish its hold but then someone else showed up in the room.

"Am I interrupting?"

Chelsea closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, he was staring at her, smiling, as though nothing had happened. How she wished she could kill him or at least die trying to. Maybe then her life would be worth something.

"Something tells me you don't give a damn," Dean replied, turning to face Lucifer.

He frowned. "That hurts, Dean…but I suppose it's true. So, Sam…I hear you have a message for me."

Sam hesitated, looking between Dean and Chelsea a moment. "I want to say yes."

Lucifer leaned closer as though he could not hear. "Come again?"

"You heard what I said."

He exhaled, smiling wider. "Are you sure you want to do that, Sam? Even after the message I sent through my little helper over here?" When Lucifer pointed at her, Chelsea felt herself grow cold. She pushed into the wall, hoping she could fall through onto the street below.

Sam looked at Chelsea again. "Yes."

The room suddenly erupted in white while an ear piercing noise assaulted her senses. Chelsea covered her ears and collapsed onto the ground, praying for it to end and it did. The room was quiet once again only now Lucifer was gone and Sam was unconscious on the floor. Instantly Dean took something out of his pocket. There were four rings, two of which she recognize. He put them on the wall, where they surprisingly stuck, and spoke in some strange language that oddly enough sounded familiar to her.

Now the room began to shake. She wondered how much more abuse this building could take. There was a tearing noise and the wall simply faded away into the black abyss. Everything not attached to the floor began to blow around. Chelsea scooted as far away from it as she could, grabbing hold of Cas so that he would not disappear too.

Dean grabbed Sam and helped him to his feet. Chelsea watched in awe and fear as Sam took a step toward the darkness. It had actually worked. The Winchesters were going to succeed but at the last second, Sam turned around and smiled. "I was just messing with you."

He began to chant and the wall returned, leaving only the rings to stand in the place where once the door to Lucifer's cage had been. Chelsea watched, terrified, as Sam picked up the rings.

"Guess you should have listened to her." In the blink of an eye, he was gone. Sam was gone and the Devil had what he wanted.

* * *

><p>Dean, Bobby and Chelsea were standing alone on some random street in Detroit. She had wanted to stay in the apartment with Cas but Dean had dragged her out for reasons she was not sure of. It did not really matter. The world was going to die anyway. Eventually fate would catch up with each and every one of them.<p>

Chelsea turned to the window of the store they stood in front of. TV screens depicted images of death and destruction all over the world. So this was what the beginning of the end looked like. Unfortunately it was not to different from the normal world, except it wasn't all happening at once. Part of her did not believe the images she was seeing. The other part just did not care.

"So, what do we do now?" Dean asked randomly as he too looked at the screens. No one said anything. "Well?"

"Dean, there's nothing we can do," Bobby replied. "Sam said yes and he didn't win. That was all we had going for us."

"There has to be something. If Cas was here…" Chelsea could feel his eyes boring into her back. His jab at her could not be more obvious but she said nothing, only continued to look at the televisions as though she were alone.

"Cas wouldn't have anything either, Dean."

"We don't know that."

"Yes, we do," Chelsea mumbled. She turned around. "Cas said I know everything he does so if there was another way, I would have thought about it by now…somehow."

Dean glared at her. "You think that just because he worked some angel mojo on you that you know what he would do?"

"I didn't say that. I said he wouldn't have any ideas."

"So what, he would just sit here and do nothing?" Dean shouted, getting uncomfortably close again. The hate was starting to become mutual.

"I didn't say that either, Dean. Stop putting words in my mouth," Chelsea replied, matching Dean's glare. "All I'm saying is that if you want to do something, it's all on you."

Chelsea could have sworn that Dean mumbled something under his breath as he walked to his car. He climbed inside and slammed the door shut, whipping out his phone. She wondered who he could possibly be calling now.

"Are you going to hate me too?" she asked as Bobby stepped closer to her. The hunter sighed and took a while to reply, no doubt choosing his words carefully.

"Seems a little pointless if you ask me," he replied. "It was Cas' choice after all."

"But I forced him to."

He sighed again. "That's the way it is, Chelsea. There are no happy endings for people like us. Either way, someone's going to die eventually."

Chelsea closed her eyes for a long moment. Right now was definitely not the first time she wished she had been left in the hospital and something told her it was nowhere near the last. Everything she had been through in the past few days was more than most people could handle in a lifetime. Even if they somehow managed to stop all this, there would be no going back. How could she be a nurse again knowing about all this stuff in the world? How could she ever be happy again? Like Bobby said, there were no happy endings. If only Cas had seen that.

There she went blaming him again. She deserved to be hated.

"Stull Cemetery," Dean said, his voice interrupting her thoughts. Chelsea looked up to see Dean out of the car again, looking slightly less upset, though hardly by much.

"What's there?" Bobby asked.

"The final showdown." He paused. "I'm going to go talk to him."

"Dean."

"I'm not getting talked out of this, Bobby. Sam isn't dying alone."

"You're forgetting one thing," Chelsea said suddenly. "Michael is going to be there. Something tells me he won't take too kindly to you disrupting."

"Do you think I care?"

Bobby stepped forward. "She has a point, Dean. You won't get anywhere near Sam with Michael there."

"Then what do you suggest I do?"

Chelsea thought a moment. There had to be something useful in her brain. She knew what Dean was going for. If he could just get through to his brother, maybe, just maybe it would be enough for him to take control. There had to be a way to get rid of Michael with sending Lucifer away as well.

And then it hit her.

"Do you still have holy oil?"

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><p>The ride to Lawrence, Kansas was more than awkward to say the least, and she was not even riding with Dean. She had opted to go with Bobby for her safety's sake but he was not exactly the best at conversation. Instead she stared out the window, occupying her thoughts with Cas the entire time. Somehow she managed to hate herself more by the time they got to the cemetery.<p>

Dean was going to drive through the front and make some kind of grand entrance, distracting Michael and Lucifer long enough for Chelsea and Bobby to sneak in from the side and get close enough to throw the Molotov cocktail of sorts at Michael. It was basically a suicide mission. Chelsea had come to terms with her own death at this point. It was the fact that she would not see Cas where she was going that she could not accept. Was it wrong to wish to be in hell?

"So, did Cas teach you how to do that as well?" Bobby asked, referring to the cocktail in her hand.

"Actually, I learned this in college," she replied, shrugging. Bobby stared at her a moment, saying nothing else.

They both walked over the hill of the cemetery, seeing Dean standing in front of his Impala with two figures in front of him. One was clearly Sam, the other must have been Michael, or Adam from what she had seen. She felt bad for the other boy. It seemed that no one cared too much about him in the situation.

Michael was getting close to Dean, too close. Chelsea moved herself forward a few more paces before lighting the cocktail and preparing to throw it. And for one moment, she paused, consumed by a new kind of fear she could not describe. For a second, she thought she would not be able to do it and just as she got her wits back, someone grabbed it from her. At first she thought it was Bobby too impatient to wait any longer. After all, their window of opportunity was small. She had wondered why he had not volunteered to do it in the first place. However, what was said next was certainly not from Bobby.

"Hey, assbutt!"

Michael turned and looked stunned for a brief moment before the bottle of holy oil smashed on his body, lighting him on fire. He burned for a few moments before disappearing completely. Dean stared on in disbelief, as did Lucifer, though his was mixed with anger.

"Castiel."

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><p>See, I fixed it. Explanations later. Sorry it's not the best. I think next chapter will be the last one. *weeps* So soon. Have a great July 4th!<p> 


	16. Free Will

OMG! It's the last chapter! AHHHH! Thank you to everyone ever for reading this story! Thanks to everyone for alerting and reviewing and everything. Everyone is wonderful! Cookies for everyone and hugs too! You guys are the best. You made this fic happen! Bless you!

**I do not own Supernatural.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen<strong>

**Free Will**

Chelsea did not turn around. She firmly believed that this was all in her head, that she had actually thrown the cocktail and that Cas was still gone, burning in hell because he did not want her to. He could not be back. There was no possible way. But soon a hand grabbed hers, pulling her back from the scene, behind a man in a tan trench coat.

"Cas," Chelsea breathed. "You really are here."

He gave her a brief moment of eye contact before looking back to Lucifer. "Stay behind me."

"How did you get out of Hell?" Lucifer asked, sounding quite angry that his plan did not work.

"Looks like our Father has chosen a side," Cas responded, sounding quite confident despite the fact he was staring death in the face, again. Chelsea wished she could share that feeling.

Lucifer actually smiled. "It's going to take a lot more than a resurrected fallen angel to stop the Apocalypse. And you're out of holy oil."

"It wasn't meant for you," Cas replied, turning to Dean. "You only have a few minutes."

Dean stepped forward, a pleading look on his face. "Sam, I know you're in there."

"Shut up!" Lucifer shouted, whipping his arm behind him. Dean flew into the side of the Impala, leaving a slight dent in it. He began to walk toward Cas, murder in his eyes. Cas just stood still, ready to be dealt his punishment, a look of defiance in his eyes. Chelsea, however, was not ready to sit by and watch him die again, even if he would not go to Hell. She just got him back.

Though she had no idea what it would do, Chelsea ran at Lucifer. Maybe she could distract him and Cas could get away, however unrealistic that sounded. As of late, she had a tendency of acting before thinking and this was no different. She thought to throw a punch at the man, despite the fact that it would be Sam's face she was hitting but before she could get anywhere near him, Lucifer snapped his finger.

At first all she heard was the sickening crunch. Then she felt her legs go limp as she collapsed onto the ground, a deep burning sensation in the middle of her back. She was screaming; she could not be sure how loud. Her senses were muddled now, everything in a haze. Pain pounded with her heart, brining red to the edge of her eyes with every beat. Chelsea tried to move her legs but there was nothing. He had broken her spine. With the snap of his fingers, he had paralyzed her.

In an instant, though it felt like an eternity to Chelsea, Cas was at her side, ready to defend her with the blade in his hand. To say he was angry would have been an understatement. The pain in his eyes made him look all the more dangerous.

"Stay away from her!" he shouted, rushing forward to attack Lucifer head on. Despite his speed and skill, Cas was no match for the fallen angel. It did not take long for Lucifer to disarm Cas and turn the blade against him. He pressed it up against the angel's ribcage, preparing to end his life once more.

"You're not interfering again, Castiel."

It was then that the long ignored Bobby came to life, firing his gun at Lucifer. All it took was a simple look, however, and Bobby's head turned unnaturally as his neck broke. He fell close to Chelsea, dead eyes staring at her. She tried to move but every inch just brought a new painful sensation to what parts of her body she could feel. It was overwhelming, threatening to knock her unconscious at any moment. So, for the time being, she would have to deal with his eyes watching her and pray that she was not about to join him.

In that short amount of time, Bobby distracted Lucifer enough for Cas to get the upper hand. He knocked the blade from Lucifer's grasp and ran over to Chelsea. Before anything could happen to either of them, Cas touched her arm and Chelsea heard the sound of wings once again.

She was no longer outside now. Overhead was a simple white ceiling with a fan that could use a little dusting. Her body was not resting on the hard ground but instead a bed. Chelsea looked around to find herself in a motel room but everywhere she turned, she found that there was something missing.

"Cas?" she whispered at first. "Cas!"

"I'm here," he replied, suddenly at her side. His hand rested on her shoulder, gentle and comforting.

"Don't…don't do that again," Chelsea said, suddenly feeling very afraid. A part of her still thought she was going to wake up and find herself alone again.

He now placed his hand on her forehead, ignoring what she said. "Hold still."

At first the room became very bright, overtaking her sight but somehow it did not bother her. Heat made its way from his hand into her body, traveling down to her spine where it concentrated, becoming much warmer yet not burning. A tingling sensation entered her legs as they regained feeling. Her toes began to move instantly, enjoying the feeling of control. Slowly her body cooled down, feeling rejuvenated. The light left her eyes, bringing the room back into focus.

Chelsea sat up, moving her legs with a smile on her face. She then turned to Cas in awe. "So…you're really…"

Cas nodded, smirking ever so slightly. Chelsea's smile grew. She threw herself on him, embracing him in the tightest hug either of them had experienced. Cas returned the gesture almost immediately, taking in her scent, holding her as though it had been an eternity since he had seen her last. However, Chelsea let go quickly, backing up.

"What about Dean? What about the Apocalypse? We have to help him!" Chelsea made her way to the door, even though she had no clue where it was that they were. They could have been a thousand miles away for all she knew. Cas grabbed her hand before she could really go anywhere and pulled her back.

"Whatever happens now is up to Dean. We can't help him," he said, a somber look on his face. Chelsea thought to struggle against his grip, try to convince him that they should try anything they could but what was the point? In the end, it would only result in their deaths, as it had for Bobby. Still, the thought of sitting and doing nothing was a little much for her to handle. But in the end she gave in and walked closer to Cas.

"How will we know it he succeeds?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know," Cas admitted, sitting on the bed and facing the open window. "But we'll be certain to know if he fails."

Sighing, Chelsea took a seat next to Cas. "What happens if we lose?"

"You'll be safe," Cas replied, determined. "I promise you."

It was not the answer she was looking for but she would take it nonetheless. Slowly she slid her hand into his, smiling slightly when he wrapped his fingers around hers. He looked at her in a strange way she had never seen before but she liked it, whatever it was. Suddenly the look changed to realization. He knew something.

"We need to go," he said and just like that Chelsea found herself standing back in the cemetery, only this time Lucifer was nowhere to be found. However, Dean was still there, bloody and broken, but alive. He was staring at the ground, as though waiting for something to appear. The four rings sat on the spot he looked at. Was it actually possible? Was the Apocalypse over?

Cas let her hand go, walking over to where Dean sat. The Winchester saw him but hardly did anything. Touching him lightly on the head, Cas fixed his wounds as well.

"Cas…are you God?" Dean asked as he began to walk away.

Chelsea watched a smile creep onto his face. "That's a nice compliment, but no. But I do believe he brought me back, new and improved." As if to prove what he just said, Cas walked over to Bobby and proceeded to bring him back to life. Chelsea gasped in awe. The hunter looked around in confusion before getting up.

"Is it over?" he asked. They all turned to Dean who nodded slowly, regretfully it seemed. Of course, she could not blame him. His brother was gone now. It seemed stupid that the only way to end it was to sacrifice himself. She admired Sam for that though. He was brave and stayed with it until the end, as did Dean.

The Winchester stood now. He walked slowly to his car, fingers tracing the hood. He stopped and stared at the Impala for a long time before opening the door and climbing inside. Chelsea looked to Cas and watched him nod. They stepped forward to the vehicle. He took shotgun while she climbed in the back. Bobby went for his own vehicle. It was the last time she would see him for a long while.

* * *

><p>Night fell as the Impala made its way down the road. Chelsea was not sure where they were going. She did not really care either. The world had nearly ended and now it had been given a second chance, as had she. Doors were open that had previously been shut. But what would she do? She could not see herself going back to nursing, even when they did rebuild the hospital. There would be too many memories, too many fears.<p>

Cas and Dean were talking. She ignored them, knowing that they wanted it to be private. There were enough thoughts swirling around in her head to do so. A normal life was out of the question. Going on day by day knowing what all was out there was not a good way to live. She felt compelled to do something with the knowledge she had but…this life they all led, she did not think she could handle it so at the time being, she felt as though she were at a crossroads.

Chelsea felt the same when it came to Cas as well. She could not deny that she held feelings for him but Cas was no longer a human. He was an angel again and the thought of anything like a relationship with one was…unnatural sounding. The universe was created to work in a certain way and what she was thinking of went against it.

"And what about Chelsea?" she head Dean ask, bring her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Cas staring at her. What she would have given to know what he was thinking.

"I have somewhere to take her."

Chelsea moved forward, putting her hand on his seat. "Where?"

Cas said nothing. He simply put his hand on hers and showed her the answer.

They were standing in front of a white, Victorian style house. The lights were on inside but no one could be seen at the moment. The yard smelled of freshly cut grass and a small, pink bicycle could be seen on the porch. Chelsea released the breath she did not realize she had been holding. It was her home. Well, her brother's now she supposed.

"How long has it been since you've seen one another?" Cas asked behind her.

"A long time," she replied, not bothering to count. She turned to face him. "Thank you."

Cas smiled but it quickly faded. He looked toward the ground. "Michael is locked in the cage as well. Without him, Heaven is in chaos."

Chelsea knew where this was going. It did not mean she had to like it but they had no obligation toward each other. "And they need you…will I see you again?"

"Perhaps," he said, pausing. "I…I don't know." Chelsea knew what that meant as well. She was losing him again. At least this time it would not be in death but perhaps that made it all the worse.

"Well," Chelsea started, fighting back unwanted tears. "It's probably for the best. Things are going to be complicated enough as it is." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, inwardly wishing it could have been more. "I guess thank you isn't enough but it's all I've got."

Cas nodded, looking pained. She turned around to head for the door, unwilling to talk anymore. It would only make it that much more difficult. She was waiting to hear him disappear, leaving her alone to a future she was not sure of and to a group of people who would sooner lock her up then try to understand what she had been through. She would get through, however, she had to. There was no one to blame for everything. This was the end that they had needed. The world was alive. A few broken hearts was hardly a bad price.

"Chelsea." She stopped. As much as it hurt, she could not just ignore him. It felt wrong. Risking further damage, Chelsea turned around. Cas was standing right behind her. She did not jump but stared at him for a long time, looking deeply into his blue eyes. They were close enough to one another for it to be considered awkward. It probably would be if her heart beat any faster. They stood that way for so long that she was about to say something until his mouth crashed down upon hers.

She had never understood what people meant by saying there were fireworks when they kissed another but she had a feeling she did now. It was like no other. The feel of his lips on hers, the touch of his skin as his hand ran along her jaw. Cas had been awkward at many things considered 'human' but he seemed to be quite marvelous at kissing her. She might have been curious about it if her mind had not gone blank at the time.

"I'll try," Cas said as he broke it off, sounding winded. She smiled, feeling like a stupid little schoolgirl again. And then he was gone, only the sound of wings remaining in his wake. Chelsea watched the space he once stood in for a long time. Against the universe it may have been but she was not about to deny the opportunity.

Turning around again, Chelsea made her way to the front door of her childhood home. Suddenly her future did not seem so lost.

* * *

><p><strong>Stay tuned to this story for an exclusive sneak peek at the sequel!<strong>


	17. Sneak Peek

**And here is the sneak peek to the sequel of The Best Defense: The Best Lies**

* * *

><p>"<em>Do you want to talk about it?" Chelsea asked, sitting down on the couch beside him. Cas stared at the floor a while. She began to wonder which he did more: tilt his head or have a private conversation with the ground beneath his feet. It seemed to be pretty intense considering he did not speak for some time. <em>

"_No," he replied slowly. "Not really."_

_Chelsea sighed. "It's eating you up inside, Cas. I can see it."_

"_I've dealt with worse." He was lying. It was obvious. Of all the things he had improved on in the human world, his poker face was not one of them._

"_You don't have to act all tough, you know. You're only…" she trailed off as she realized how stupid that statement was giving the current situation. Cas did not miss it. Apparently he knew the adage quite well. When he looked at her, he seemed a little more upset, as though she had purposely tried to insult him._

"_Human?" Cas stood, facing away. "Well, I'm not human, Chelsea. I'm an angel of the Lord."_

"_Yeah, I got that," Chelsea replied, started to sound frustrated herself before she took a deep breath and started over, moving to him. "But you were human, Cas and you've got all the emotions of one to prove it."_

_She turned Cas around to face her but he only continued to look at the ground. He was so terribly broken and lost. His shoulders sagged in defeat and, when she caught a glimpse at them, his eyes were dark, clouded over with thoughts. While he was there physically with her, Cas was gone in every other sense of the word. If he would only let her in…_

"_You can't just ignore your feelings until they're gone. It doesn't work like that," Chelsea continued, placing her hand on his cheek. She lifted his face up slightly so that their eyes would meet. "Let me help you."_

_He stood still for a long time and as Chelsea searched his eyes, she began to believe that she actually got through to him. That was until he sighed and grabbed her wrist, placing her arm back at her side. _

"_I am the only angel in Heaven that has been to Hell. There is no helping me." _

_And then he was gone._

"I said, what the hell were you thinking?"

Chelsea snapped out of her stupor and looked up. Suddenly she remembered where she was. The room was small and confined with only a table and two chairs to occupy it, both of which were being used now, one for her and one for the detective across the way. He had a nasty look on his face. Something told her getting the file and being told to question her was not the extent of his involvement in the case.

She opened her mouth as though ready to say something but then looked down once more, staring at the handcuffs she still wore. Two sets of eyes burned holes into the back of her skull. It must have been the armed guards on either side of her.

The detective sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Listen, Chelsea, you are not helping yourself by staying quiet. And I am not a patient man. I will not grill you for hours to get one word out of you so you can either answer me or I can leave you here to rot." He stood up now and walked to the wall, leaning against it.

"Now, Chelsea, for the love of God, tell me what possessed you to wake up one morning and decide to become a terrorist?"


	18. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

For those of you who don't know, I have posted the sequel for this story…just now actually. It's called "The Best Lies," just like the sneak peak says. Thanks for reading this story. I appreciate it so much! I hope you enjoy this new one! I'm looking forward to writing it. Have a nice day!


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